Younger than the Dinosaurs
by Dr. Scott
Summary: Chap 14: Jack and his clone Jon learn what life is like for the other.
1. First Impressions

Younger than a Dinosaur

Chapter One: First Impressions

by Leanne Scott

Summary: What does mini Jack do over summer vacation?

Disclaimer: I don't own him, yada, yada. But all the rest of the characters were given to me by the writing muse fairy.

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Reclined back on his backpack, he felt the vibration of the road like some fifty cent vibrating massage. He found himself second guessing his decision. He never used to do that, back when he was a black ops trained air force officer. But that life had never really been his, only the memories.

He had become, shockingly enough, a teen age whiz kid. A boy genius. Der wunderkind. For crying out loud…a geek. He could hardly explain to his English teachers that the reason he could write such good analytical papers was because he had years of experience with writing concise field reports. He could hardly explain his knowledge of history because he'd already earned a masters as part of his officer promotions. Even math and science came easy to him after years of sitting through briefings. He couldn't help throw himself into the new material, part of him wanted to make "her" proud of him.

'So not going there', he told himself.

'So what are you doing here?' he asked himself again. The truth was he couldn't stand school anymore. At first it had been a lark appealing to the juvenile side of his personality, but after awhile the nonstop immaturity turned tiresome. He actually longed for a serious conversation about something other than movies, games and who was dating whom.

Right. He wasn't supposed to use proper grammar. Yet. He couldn't wait to finish growing up and literally catch up with himself.

He'd done summer school the last two years to get ahead and just keep busy. But he couldn't stand it again this summer. So here he was. On a bus heading to western Colorado with a bunch of people he didn't even know for seven whole weeks. At least they were college students. He hoped they'd be more interesting than his fellow students had been. Getting on the bus earlier that morning he realized that he was mentally older than anyone, except maybe the bus driver. Sheesh, he felt older than the professor and he was really the reason he'd signed up for this little dig.

Hunting for dinosaurs. Right. Little did they know they had one in disguise right in their midst.

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It was the down shifting of the bus that allowed him to hear the comments. They had been flying along on the highway with the purr of the engine and the whistle of the 22-60 air-conditioning, 22 windows down and driving 60 miles an hour, which had cocooned him in a bubble of white noise. Although the three girls had been chatting almost nonstop for the entire trip, their voices had been melted together and swept backward with the wind. But as the bus slowed and prepared to turn left onto the dirt road, the girls still had their voices pitched to overcome the noise and one could hardly blame him for overhearing.

"No way! He's too young!"

"But he's so cute!"

"Hey…shhh!"

The three girls glanced guiltily over at the object in question who was across the aisle and two rows ahead of them still asleep, apparently. His long legs were sticking out in the aisle, ankles crossed with his well worn military style hiking boots the only part clearly visible. The top of his left shoulder and the collar of his black leather jacket peeked over the back of the seat. His short brown hair stuck out under the back of his baseball cap that was pulled down over most of his face. The flat plane of his left cheek met his square, slightly cleft jaw and disappeared with the rest of his straight, aquiline nose under the brim of the cap.

The shocks on the old bus were tolerable on a paved road, but just about useless on a dirt road and they all bounced up and slapped back down in their seats as they hit a pothole. The driver down shifted again and the bus slowed more to accommodate the poor condition of the road. There was no way he could continue to pretend to sleep through that and he made a point not to look back at the girls as he stretched his arms up over his head and sat up from his soft sided backpack that he'd been reclining on most of the trip. Looking forward, he saw the professor looking back at him with a mild look of curiosity. He gave a small shrug and a half smile in acknowledgment, and then settled back in his seat facing properly forward and studied the landscape out of the wide front windshield.

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It had been a long drive from Colorado Springs, through Denver, then west over the Rockies and across the high plains of the Roan Plateau, but they were finally nearing their destination of the Dinosaur National Monument Parklands. The broken canyons of the desert like plateau region were uplifting to the mountains and with their pinon and juniper trees, and green pines at the higher elevations. They had completely bypassed the visitor center as they were meeting the rest of their research group that had arrived a week earlier to check in, show their permits for their dig to the park rangers and set up their base camp along one of the side canyons of the Yampa River. The site had barely been studied the previous summer, but the geological layer cake that was slowly weathering down into the canyons seemed a promising place to find fossils that bridged the Cretaceous/Tertiary boundary of 65 million years ago. Professor Gil Moore looked up from his field maps as the bus slowed down and overheard some of his students talking.

"No way! He's too young!" said Mindy. She was the oldest of the girls, a senior, who had come on the expedition last year. She had long brown hair braided down her back and strong biker's physique to go with her opinionated personality.

"But he's so cute!" said Ashley, a rather ditsy blond with a little too much makeup for a campout and a little too thin to be healthy.

"Hey…shhh!" said Susan, the other junior who was probably the most sensible with a short hair cut and wearing regular jeans and a t-shirt.

She was a little out of shape, but nothing like seven weeks of field camp to put some muscle on you, thought Dr. Moore. He twisted in his seat to look past the girls on the left side of the bus to the four young men sitting in four middle seats. Dwain and Derrick were too sophomore jocks with ready muscles they would need for this expedition. They had mistakenly thought geology would be an easy major but were in sore need of the extra credit this trip would give them in order to even pass the last semester. Dr. Moore sighed, he'd just have soon failed them, but Coach Price had practically begged him to give them a chance. Sitting across from them were Stan, another returning student who showed a real interest in paleontology, and Robert who was more interested in petroleum geology but had been talked into coming by Stan who had been his roommate in college the year before. And while he guessed they were nice enough looking, although a bit geeky with their glasses, he knew they were at least as old or older than Mindy. So that left only one person the girls could be talking about.

They hit a pothole and everyone bounced in their seats, and Dr. Moore was able to turn sideways in his seat more naturally to look at the boy in the seat right behind him. The eighteen year old stretched out his long arms and legs languorously from his nap, carefully folded his lanky frame back in the seat, gave a small shrug and half a grin to look up with a twinkle in his eye, before sending his gaze out the front window.

Dr. Moore began to doubt the decision to accept him on the expedition. Turning back around in his own seat, he gazed absently out the same windshield remembering the first time he'd met this mysterious young man.

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"Tonight's homework should be to read chapters 31 and 32 in preparation for our last unit on extra-terrestrial geology. I will be presenting additional data from NASA during next week's lectures so be sure not to miss any! Finally, I want to make an announcement. I and my colleague, Dr. Brown from CU Boulder, will be leading a seven week expedition this summer to western Colorado to hopefully find dinosaur fossils. Although there is only a small stipend, your meals are paid for. So if you're interested in a real experience out in the field, please see me after class. Okay, dismissed," Dr. Gil Moore looked out over his introductory geology class. The clatter of notebooks closing and feet slapping on the stairs of the deep auditorium filled the previously quiet room. It always amazed him how fast over 150 people could exit the lecture hall. Most of the students chatted amongst themselves, only a few gave him awkward smiles and nods goodbye.

Sighing, he looked down at the counter in front of him and began to pick up his lecture notes and papers. When he had first started teaching as an assistant professor, he hadn't had much trouble with volunteers for the field, but now kids all wanted jobs on computers. He wondered if he could send an email to persuade Speilberg to make another 'Jurassic Park' to help him out. So it was with surprise when he looked up and saw a student standing in front of him.

"Excuse me, sir. I'd like to get out into the field," the young man said quietly but with conviction.

The lanky, six foot youth stood as tall as Moore, although clearly with some more growth yet to come. At first glance, Moore dismissed him as too young, probably had childish delusions of finding museum like skeletons. But serious brown eyes gazed back at him, and Moore realized he was being appraised and weighed in return.

"Name's Jonathon O'Neill," he said holding out his hand.

Moore took the hand to shake it and was surprised at the strong, dry grip. "Ahh, you're one of the group of advanced students from Colorado Springs High School." He tried to remember his grade book, but couldn't really place O'Neill in either an excellent or bad category, probably in with the pack of B students. "Well, you see Jonathan…"

"Call me Jon," he interrupted. "I know I look kinda young but I have a lot of experience."

"Digging fossils?" asked Moore doubtfully.

"No, but I mean in the field. My, ah, uncle took me camping a lot as a kid. I know rappelling, tracking, can start a fire with just about anything and I have my Red Cross first aid and CPR card," he added hopefully.

"Look, you should ask your parents…"

"I was orphaned three years ago, and legally emancipated at age 16," Jon interrupted again. "I make my own decisions."

Moore looked sharply at Jon's face and realized he was telling the truth. The eyes staring back at him were sadder and wiser than his own, and compelling him to say yes.

"I need to get out in the field again. I need to do something useful after this year of school," Jon explained earnestly.

Suddenly, Moore felt a deep trust in this young man that he had just met. He was sure that Jon could do anything he really set his mind to do. "Sure. I think you'd make a good addition to the team," and he gave Jon a big, honest smile. "Come talk with me in my office," he said leading the way out of the lecture hall past the new class starting to file in.

"Ya, sure, ya betcha," replied Jon with a boyish grin of his own.

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After the painfully slow, bumpy trip the last few miles had been, everyone stood with relief when the bus finally rolled to a stop. Moore snapped out of his musings and leaned over to pat the bus driver on the arm. "Thanks, Amerigo. You've gotten us here again all in one piece."

The middle aged Hispanic man laced his fingers together and stretched his arms out in front of himself to crack his knuckles. "I just hope she holds together long enough for me to get you back out in August," he replied, and patted the dashboard.

"Okay, everyone. Unload your personal gear. We'll go meet the rest of the team and then regroup to unload everything. Come on," he ordered and let the way off the bus.

Jon was ready with his pack over one shoulder and a large, Pelican waterproof briefcase in the other, but waited patiently for the driver to extricate himself from behind the wheel.

"Hey, move it, string bean," called out one of the football players.

Jon merely glanced over his shoulder in disgust and allowed the driver to walk out first. He took a couple strides and set down his things in the dry grass and turned to offer help to the girls. Mindy managed her backpack and rolling duffel with practiced ease completely ignoring his hand. She was followed by Susan with a moderately sized rolling suitcase who muttered a grateful thanks as he helped lower it to the ground behind her.

But it was Ashley who was a complete mess. She had a purse and camera bag over one arm, and on the other a large straw satchel with various items dangling over the edge including what looked suspiciously like a swimsuit. Backing down the stairs as she tried to drag an enormous soft-sided suitcase that was so stuffed it could barely fit through the seats, Jon could only see her backside and stepped closer to look in the door to see how he could help. Ashley gave an exasperated pull trying to both lift and drag the suitcase around the corner, which choose that moment to catch and she flew backward into his arms. Jon lost his balance falling on his backside, and she landed in his lap with his hands cupping her breasts and half the contents of the straw bag on his head and shoulders.

Derrick, one of the jocks, brought the large bag down the stairs with ease and guffawed loudly at the sight. "Let a man help you, little lady," he drawled and stuck out a hand to the pretty blond to help her back on her feet.

Embarrassed, Jon snatched his hands away and splayed them on the ground to hold himself up. While Ashley turned with an embarrassed smile of her own, "sorry," she giggled while snatching the clothing items from his shoulders and stuffing them back in the satchel. Then taking Derrick's arm, she let him lead her off towards the camp behind the others.

Jon pushed himself up and dusted his pants off while the other three guys all laughing at him got off the bus with their backpacks. "No good deed goes unpunished," he muttered to himself, throwing his own pack over one arm and trudging after the rest of the students.

The late afternoon sun still shone warmly, with several hours of daylight left due to the long summer day. They had arrived in a dramatically beautiful valley, with a river flowing at the bottom of a steep embankment to their right. To the left, broken crumbling cliffs rose above the vegetation in alternating bands of reds and browns to stand silhouetted against the golden western sky. They were on a flat shelf of land, the remnants of the old river bed, back when it was wide and full of water and had initially carved this valley. The last million years or so had been much drier and the smaller river had cut its new, narrower bed below them. Cottonwoods grew along this strip of land, close enough to the water without being taken out by floods, creating a welcome bit of shade in this hot, near desert region.

Back near the cliffs, two large tents and an open sided awning had been set up. Two new people approached them from the base camp shouting welcome. Dr. Moore gestured to the side of a tent and the other students began setting their things down just outside it, and then began making introductions. Jon arrived just as he finished pointing to the rest. Moore finished breathlessly, "Oh, and here's Jon O'Neill. Now then everybody, this is Dr. Keiko Brown and her graduate student, Neal Holz. They're both paleobotanists."

Jon stood back off to the side watching as everyone shook hands. He studied Dr. Moore's colleague in surprise. Moore had never mentioned it was a she. Dr. Keiko Brown was a tall, thin, Japanese American with a broad, plain face but a pleasant smile as she nodded greetings to their boisterous group. Jon stepped forward to shake hands, and answered her unspoken question, "High school exchange student, ma'am."

Her bright brown eyes poured into his and he held her gaze calmly. She nodded slightly, "I trust Gil to pick good workers."

Turning to greet the other new person, Jon was surprised to see him leaning back with arms crossed and a scowl on his face. "This is not a summer camp. I'm here to do serious research," Neal announced pompously.

Jon took an immediate dislike to the self-important graduate student and couldn't stop himself from a sarcastic reply, "The library's a couple hundred miles back that way. We're here to shovel rock."

"Right, well, we won't be able to do either if we don't get that bus unloaded. So come on everyone," Moore declared smoothly, steeping between the two and gesturing towards the vehicle parked on the dusty road.

"I've already unloaded our van and helped set up the tents," declared Neal. "I thought I'd start on our chili dinner." Then he turned to the back of the awning where a folding table with a Coleman stove was set up and began pulling pots and cans of beans out of a lock box.

"Fine, Neal, thanks," Keiko said placatingly, "Dr. Moore, if I might have a word with you…"she said placing a hand on his forearm.

Moore waved at the rest of them with his other arm, "I'll tell you where to stack it as you haul it over here." Then allowed her to pull him over to the side of the awning.

The other students immediately began the first of many walks back to the bus to unload, but Jon still had his own things to deal with. He strode over to the tent where all the backpacks were stacked and set down both his pack and case. Taking off his jacket and cap, he set them on top of the pack knowing he'd soon be working up a sweat. His keen ears could just over hear the conversation of the two professors and he couldn't help be a little curious about the social dynamics of situation he had managed to get himself into.

"I'm sorry, Moore. He's really not that bad. He's just a little insecure around new people."

"It's okay, Brown. What, only another year or so more of him, right?"

"Well, that depends on what we find this summer. He's got to write his thesis on something after all," Keiko laughed lightly. "It's good to see you again. How is everything in the Springs these days?"

Jon forced himself to move away and give them a bit of privacy to catch up on their friendship. He glanced surreptitiously at them and saw the way Dr. Moore leaned slightly forward, completely focused on the animated woman beside him. She seemed to blossom under Moore's gaze and Jon found himself re-evaluating her features as prettier than his first impression had given him. They stood close, but without touching and Jon heard him call her Brown again. They seemed to have an obvious chemistry together, but called each other by their last names. What kind of friends did that?

If he was completely honest with himself, he realized he recognized that dance. He'd done it himself for seven years in what he'd been calling his second life. That is whenever he'd allow himself to think about it. 'Don't go there, O'Neill,' he told himself. 'You had a family. You had the SGC. Now you have this third chance at life. Don't screw up again. There's only six left after this.' He snorted at his own joke and shook his head to clear his thoughts as he arrived at the back of the bus.

Stan, the returning senior, had climbed on the back and had the rear emergency door open so they could unload more easily. Clearly familiar with the routine, he was handing out empty specimen cases and boxes of supplies that had been piled up in the back of the bus. Soon the parade of busy ants were ferrying the items to the camp, where the two doctors were directing traffic and helping to organize things in one of the big tents.

Jon was on his way back for his fourth trip, the lighter items now all stowed and the heavier boxes on the floor of the bus finally revealed. Amerigo and Derrick went past him carry a long folding table between them. "We'll need this for dinner tonight!" called out the bus driver with a grin.

Mindy had joined Stan inside the bus and was loudly talking him into leaving the other folding table angled from the bus to the ground, "Look, we can just slide things down. It will be easier. Didn't you take physics? The inclined plane is one of the six basic machines."

"Yes, but…" Stan tried to get a word in edgewise.

"Just watch," she snapped, scooting a heavy box of plaster of Paris on the makeshift ramp and giving it a shove to watch it slide down all by itself. Susan stood waiting at the bottom, ready to catch the box when she should have been standing to the side. The inexorable pull of gravity accelerated the heavy box towards the clueless girl and Jon moved almost without thinking. Bursting into a sprint, he crossed the distance to her at an angle and threw his body on hers as they went over in a tangle of limbs. The box hit the ground where she had just been standing with a loud smack and burst open showering the two of them in the fine white powder.

Jon lifted his head up from the soft body he found himself on and looked up at the kabuki powdered face of Susan from the vantage point of her breasts. His face turned red as he rolled off of her, but he kept a hand on her arm to keep her still a moment longer. "Are you okay? Do you think you broke any bones?" he asked.

Susan's features went through a cycle of shock, fear, anger and shock again as she realized what had just happened. "I think you just saved my life," she managed to breathe while staring into his concerned brown eyes.

"All in a day's work," he shrugged humbly.

"Not again," declared Derrick as he returned. "What is it with you throwing yourself on all the girls?" He reached out his hands, pulled Susan to her feet, and brushed the power off her shoulders. "How'd you get this stuff all over you?"

"I didn't. I…" started Jon as he pushed himself off the ground to stand up.

"He just saved her life," Stan declared loudly.

"Oh, God! Susan! I'm so sorry!" exclaimed Mindy finally recovering voice. "I just get so excited some times. I don't think things through." And true to her word, she stepped out of the bus onto the inclined table intending to walk down it to her friend. But without any true attachment to the bumper, her weight and forward momentum caused the end of the table to slip from where it was merely leaning and the powdered plaster of Paris allowed the other end to slide freely with little friction on the ground. Just as Mindy felt her stomach go out from under her and lost her balance, Jon stepped under the corner of the table and caught its falling end on his shoulder with a groan. She slid down the table like a children's slide and landed in the powder with a splash of dust.

"Christ!" exclaimed Stan as he jumped down off the bus and quickly grabbed the other side of the table. He lifted it off Jon's shoulder and getting a better grip slid it forward and down to lie safely on the ground. Jon remained where he was with both hands braced on his knees and his head bowed forward breathing heavily.

"That's going to be a bruise," remarked Derrick. "Quick thinking though kid," he added with a touch of respect.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry," wailed Mindy beginning to lose it.

Fortunately, Susan had recovered her wits and gestured to the now gathering crowd. "Will you guys finish up? I think we better go clean up. Ashley, go find the first aid kit and meet us down at the river will you?" She walked over to Jon and put a gentle hand on his arm, "We better get this powder off before it hardens with our sweat."

He looked up at her and nodded agreement. Straightening slowly, he shrugged his shoulders experimentally and took an involuntary sharp breath at the pain. He tried to smile at her worried face, "Not broken. Will be okay," he managed to say.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry," repeated Mindy.

Susan grabbed her friend's arm too and led them over towards the river. An angled path led down the slope to the water's edge and luckily she didn't have to steady Jon too much to get them down. "Mindy, take off your shoes first," she ordered and her friend blinked her tears away as she sat on the ground. "Try sit on this boulder," she coaxed Jon.

He let go of the clutch he'd had on his left arm trying to keep it snug against his body and used his good right arm to lower himself on the rock she led him to. He found his knees were beginning to shake as shock set in. He could only watch as she knelt in front of him, lifting his feet into her lap and taking off his socks and shoes one by one. She quickly stepped out of her own loafers, leaving her socks on and led him out into the river. The thin sand at the edge quickly turned into rocks as they waded out into the chilly water. Jon found it hard to keep his balance and opted to just plop down into the water up to his neck. The cold felt good on his aching shoulder and he began to move it again gingerly.

Susan left him there to soak and turned to her distraught friend wading in behind them.

"I'm sorry," Mindy started again.

"It's okay. I forgive you. We're all okay. Accidents happen. Come on. I shouldn't have been standing at the end of the stupid ramp, now should I? Here, I'll brush your back off and you do mine."

"It just happened so fast, and I was just so scared. I'm so glad you're okay," Mindy finally managed to articulate.

"I know, I know. When I saw the table start to slip, I was sure you'd fall backwards and hit your head on the bumper or door or something."

"If it hadn't been for Jon," started Mindy.

"If it hadn't been for Jon," Susan said at the same time. They laughed and sighed with relief.

"You need to wash your face," Mindy pointed out.

"Not to mention hair," replied Susan as she ducked under the water and scrubbed at her cheeks.

Mindy waded out to Jon and plopped down next to him. "I'm really sorry. I was being smug and superior earlier today. Can we start over. I'd really like to be friends with the guy who saved my life. My name's Mindy," and she held out her hand to him over the rushing water.

He reached out to her automatically and shook her hand like it was a formal introduction, not out in the middle of a river. "Name's Jonathan O'Neill, but my friend's call me Jon. And, honestly, I didn't save your life. Saved you from getting a bad bruise maybe," he teased pointing to his own shoulder.

"Please. Let me help. I can wash the plaster out of you hair for you," she pleaded trying to make amends.

"Well, it is kind of hard to reach up at the moment," he admitted.

"Lean back, in the water," she instructed. "I'll hold you up right here," and she circled an arm around his chest, "and then I can rinse your hair out like this," she continued. Jon found himself in the arms of yet another girl as she gently brushed her fingers through his hair and over his back to wash off all the plaster dust.

'When it rains it pours' he thought, 'I haven't even had a date for months and today I've literally run into three!' He kept his eyes closed and relaxed in the girl's arms letting the tension in his shoulder go and with it most of the pain.

She felt him relax and felt herself forgiven with his trust in her. She continued to brush her fingers through his fine hair, humming softly and staring out at the golden sparkles on the water. When she looked down, he'd opened his eyes and the deep pools of brown looked up drawing her into their depths.

"Ahem," Susan cleared her throat.

Startled, Mindy let go of his chest and Jon sunk briefly under the water. Twisting his body, he managed to get his knees under him and rose sputtering and shaking water from his hair like a wet dog.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" she exclaimed standing up herself.

Jon looked at the two pretty girls with their wet clothes clinging to them in all the right places, the beautiful river valley creating just the right backdrop for them. He couldn't help grinning, and his slow chuckle turned into a full, deep laugh as they joined him.

What a day! Life was good. After all, he was at least younger than the dinosaurs.


	2. Team Building

Younger than a Dinosaur

Chapter Two: Team Building

by Leanne Scott

Summary: What does mini Jack do over summer vacation?

Disclaimer: I don't own him, yada, yada. But all the rest of the characters were given to me by the writing muse fairy.

Author's note: This turned out a bit more introspective than I intended it to, but I know some of you like angst. The next chapter has a lot more action, I'm half way through, but thought I'd see how you like this so far. Thanks for the support so far reviewers. Feedback is always appreciated!

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The twittering and chirping of birds declaring their territories snapped him out of a vivid dream. He forced himself to lie still as he peeked out of half opened eyes at the grey dawn. Even as his heart raced, he kept his breathing even to fool anyone who might be watching him. Disoriented he wondered, 'What planet am I on now?'

He was lying curled on his right side in his own down bag. The familiar smell grounded him and helped him relax. His body was aching from sleeping on the hard ground and demanding that he move and stretch, but he remained still as he cautiously opened his eyes more fully. He wondered who was on watch. Usually he'd have heard stirrings of someone making coffee by now. As his eyes registered the tents under the trees, memory flooded back to him.

Oh, right. He was stuck here on Earth in this younger version of himself. He was on an expedition to dig up dinosaurs, and he had seven weeks of this fun of sleeping on the ground ahead of him. 'Why didn't I bring a mat again? You're getting too soft sleeping in a bed the last few years,' he reminded himself.

Now that his threat inventory was over, he allowed himself to roll onto his back, wincing as his left shoulder touched the ground. Definitely a big bruise there from using it to stop a table from falling yesterday. He sat up using only his stomach muscles and stretched his arms out straight in front of him. He needed a good workout.

Soft snores from his fellow male students caught his attention and he looked over at the scattered sleeping bags under a tree. The bus driver was stretched out in front, and the three girls were clustered together under the dining canopy, while the good doctors Moore and Brown had retired in one of the tents. 'Where's that graduate student, Neal the heel,' he wondered unconsciously taking on the commander role he had filled for so many years and keeping count of all his people. Probably in the tent with the doctors he decided.

He had set his sleeping bag out closer to the river the night before so he could have a clear view of the sky, and had lain awake at least an hour staring up at all the stars. He still missed the action. His old friends. 'Don't go there,' he told himself, 'let it go, move on.' Hoping he could order his heart to do so.

Rising out of his bag he padded bare footed closer to the river to look down. The cool morning gave him goose bumps as he looked out over the river and into the pink sky shot with fingertips of golden light. He felt it give him energy and he needed to move, to stretch his aching muscles. Usually he did a standard workout and went for a run, but there'd be plenty of physical activity later today. Without really consciously deciding to, he began the fluid training moves of the Jaffa. His old friend had taught him many years ago and he let his mind wander in memory as his body went through the graceful, connected moves of mock battle.

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Susan rolled uncomfortably to her other side. Her body ached from being tackled the night before, and she had found it hard to relax on the thin mat between her and the ground. Hoping others would be rising soon, she opened her eyes to the early morning sky and a caught her breath with a gasp. Silhouetted against the pastel sky, a lone figure crouched, leapt, kicked and twirled in a kind of slow motion dance. "Mindy, hey, wake up," she whispered, reaching over to shake her friend.

"Go 'way…sleep more…" mumbled Mindy.

"Don't sit up. Just open your eyes," Susan said still shaking her shoulder.

"Hmmm…what…wow!"

"Shhh…I know. Don't move. He might stop."

The pair watched silently for a few minutes as Jon picked up the pace going through the set movements with even more strength and power, twirling faster in the morning light. Suddenly he stopped, standing tall with his fisted hands held out at angles from his sides, his feet shoulder length apart. Slowly, dropping his arms to his sides, he stepped his feet together and bowed slightly to an imaginary partner.

"I take it back. Not too young," declared Mindy.

"Yeah, definitely some redeeming qualities," agreed the other half of his fan club. "What was that? Some kind of karate?" asked Susan.

"No, and not tai chi either. I've taken both those classes and tae kwon do for self defense class. It was similar, but definitely different. He held his hands strangely," observed Mindy.

"Like he should be holding a staff or long club," agreed a deep voice. Startled, the girls sat up and looked over to the front of the awning at the bus driver. They had forgotten he had settled down for the night across from them. "Maybe some kind of medieval Japanese combat style," the driver continued. "He said his uncle was in the military. Must have taught it to him."

"How do you know that?" Mindy asked curiously as she sat up in her bag, all sleep forgotten with the mystery of Jon O'Neill.

"After dinner, he asked me what division I'd served with during Desert Storm back in '91. I guess he saw my tattoo. Anyway, he allowed as how his uncle had been there, even had spent time as a POW, and we talked about the current situation. My son's there now with the motor pool in Falujah."

"I hope he'll be alright," Susan said with a worried tone.

"Thanks, me too," agreed Amerigo, "God's will be done."

Further conversation was cut short, as Jon came walking up carrying his bed roll. "Morning," he nodded at them, "just going to change," and gestured to his pack. His face glistened with sweat and his t-shirt clung to him with wet spots under his arms and between his shoulder blades, while his sweat pants hung loosely from his hips. He pulled a towel, and a fresh t-shirt from the pack, then sauntered over to the makeshift clothes line they had strung up the night before between two trees. After their impromptu "swim" to wash off the plaster of Paris powder they had gotten covered in, they had hung their wet clothes out overnight to dry. Patting his jeans, he shrugged and took them down, "Good enough." Then he walked off back towards the river with nod in their direction, oblivious to the effect he had on them.

With a significant look at her friend, Mindy licked her lips, and the two burst into giggles.

"Oh, what time is it?" moaned Ashley lifting her tousled blond head and looking in confusion at the other two girls.

"Time to get up. You've already missed the floor show," Mindy laughed.

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By the time Jon finished swimming and changing clothes, the rest of camp was stirring and the distinctive smell of coffee brewing wafted towards him as he walked back from the river. The girls had disappeared, presumably changing in the supply tent and most of the rest were standing or sitting under the mess canopy. Movement out of the corner of his eye put him on alert and he tensed in a slight crouch unconsciously. Almost as quickly, he relaxed as he realized it was only Amerigo, the bus driver, walking back from the road. Smiling easily, Jon made to walk on but the man's voice stopped him again.

"Just what brings you out here, son?" demanded the older man.

Jon turned to look at him curiously. They had spent an hour after dinner talking about politics, life in the military, and comparing notes on blogs they had read about current operations in Iraq. He had actually forgotten his act with the man, and had simply been himself without constantly censoring his vocabulary. Despite the topic, it had been one of the most enjoyable conversations he'd had in a long time. In a lot of ways he totally related to the retired army mechanic and had felt he'd made a friend.

But the man staring him down this morning was exuding a surprising air of menace.

Jon suppressed the urge to simply hit him and put him in his place. Forcing himself into his teenage act, he shrugged his shoulders and tried to look clueless. Actually, he'd been perfecting the humble, clueless act for a long, long time. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me," the older man stared him down. "You've got a good act going there kid. I almost bought it until this morning. You seemed a bit too knowledgeable last night, but I put it down to a fascination with the military because of your uncle. Then this morning you go through some fighting routine I've never seen before. And just now you were ready to take me out, weren't you?" Amerigo demanded sternly.

Mentally kicking himself for doing the Jaffa routine, Jon realized he'd been spending too much time alone. He wasn't used to thinking about what other people were doing or thinking. Trying to look nonchalant, he assumed his best teenage slouch and drawled, "Nah, just surprised me a bit is all."

"I'm not buying," returned the older man. "I've seen soldiers in battle, and you know how to handle yourself. How that's possible, I don't know. But I want to know what your intentions are for coming out here."

'Good question. Why am I here?' Jon thought as he stared at his feet. Finally looking Amerigo in the eye, Jon straightened and determined to tell at least a version of the truth to the perceptive old soldier. "Well, yes, I have had a few, ah, experiences from traveling with my uncle. But they have nothing to do with why I'm here. I really was in Dr. Moore's class and took up his invitation to experience a geological field trip for the summer."

"See, that's just it. Dr. Moore is a good man. He treats me with respect, and I don't want to leave him here with some trouble maker on his hands. I'm taking you back with me unless you convince me otherwise."

"I'm not here to cause trouble. Hey, I saved those two girls from getting hurt last night while we were unloading," Jon reminded him.

Amerigo relaxed his stance a little remembering the incident. Even though he only saw the end of it, with the three young people covered in white plaster of Paris powder, it was obvious from everyone's reactions that Jon had saved the day. He studied the young man in front of him, considering the contrast of old eyes in a young body. Something about Jon just gave him confidence. "Most of these kids don't have a clue what it's like to live out in the wilderness," he started, gesturing to the camp and the hills behind, "they're going to need someone to look after them. Can I trust you to do that job?" He looked hard into Jon's eyes.

Jon returned the stare, unconsciously coming to attention, "Yes, sir."

"I'll hold you to that. When I come back to pick everyone up I'm going to expect a full report. And the professor better be able to corroborate you've fulfilled your mission."

Mission. Jon blinked at the word in shock. Maybe it was that it came from the mouth of the old retired army mechanic, maybe it was that it was out of context here in the wild, but the word resonated deep in his soul. He hadn't heard that word in too long. It gave his life meaning and purpose. He had a mission again, if only for seven weeks.

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Dr. Gil Moore blew softly on the steaming cup of coffee and gingerly took a sip of the first cup out of the pot. He didn't really come awake in the morning until he'd had his first cup of joe. Looking over the crew of students gathering at the long folding table, he nodded with optimistic satisfaction. He really hoped they would all have a great time, and help him make a great find for his research. So much of success in the field of paleontology was sheer luck in what fossils you found.

"Ohayo," Dr. Keiko Brown bubbled happily at him, rustling around with the breakfast provisions.

"Morning," he mumbled back taking another careful sip. He'd forgotten about her early morning personality. He was more of a night owl, but found his circadian rhythm rotated after being out in the field for a week or so. The days full of hard work, and the insistent calls of birds at dawn would soon have him following ole' Ben Franklin's adage.

Just as he was about to take another sip, she grabbed his shoulder and he had to clutch the mug with his other hand to steady it upright. "Moore?" she asked anxiously. He bit off the swear word he had been about to utter, alerted to her tone of voice. Instead he looked at her concerned face that was turned sideways looking out of the dining area. Following her gaze he saw two figures silhouetted in the morning light. Their posture was anything but relaxed and he realized that was what had her worried.

"Who?" he asked quietly, squinting into the sunlight.

"Amerigo and the boy," she whispered, "Are you really sure of him?" They both knew she wasn't talking about the bus driver.

"I'll take care of it. It'll all be fine, you'll see," he said with more reassurance than he actually felt. He smiled at her and took his coffee out with him, trying to look like he was just out for a morning stroll.

The heavy set older man squared off with the lanky young man who looked ready to pounce even though he slouched with his hands in his pockets. Moore couldn't hear their words, but was curious about what Amerigo was bristling about. It was so unlike the easy going bus driver to confront anyone. Moore paused and took two big swallows of the somewhat cooler coffee. He had to get his head working if he was going to take control of the situation.

Fortunately, he saw Amerigo's posture relax and watched as the man gestured towards himself and the mountains behind. As he drew closer he could finally overhear their words.

"…expect a full report. And the professor better be able to corroborate you've fulfilled your mission." Jon looked a bit stunned until a slow grin broke out across his face.

"Do we have a deal?" Amerigo asked holding out his hand.

Jon gripped it and shook his hand, "Yes, sir!"

"What mission?" Dr. Moore asked as he came up behind them.

"Oh, good morning Dr. Moore," greeted Amerigo with a start. "I'm just making sure Jon here is willing to help out the less experienced campers."

"I've had a lot of experience going out with my uncle," Jon reminded Moore with a slightly embarrassed look.

"I remember what you told me a month ago, Jon. I have complete confidence in you," Moore replied with a smile and turned to nod his head toward Amerigo to indicate his sincerity. "When are you planning to leave? Have time for some breakfast and coffee?" he asked holding up his own half full mug.

"I don't think breakfast is so good an idea with that washboard road to drive on first thing this morning, but that coffee smells pretty good," Amerigo replied, his normally jovial mood replaced now that he felt Dr. Moore was in charge of Jon. Smiling, he patted Jon on the shoulder in a fatherly sort of apology, "What say we go get some of that coffee?"

Jon grinned back and walked toward the mess tent with new purpose in his step.

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Jon couldn't keep the stupid grin off his face all morning. First, Dr. Brown had made his favorite, Scottish whole grain oatmeal. The kind you actually have to cook for fifteen minutes. The kind with flavor and texture, and that really stuck to your ribs when you had a long day ahead of you. None of that just add boiling water, sugary sweet, processed gruel that he had to admit, he'd eaten too much of over the last few years in his hurry to get to school on time. Then all three girls had flirted with him over breakfast, teasing him when he got his third bowl of oatmeal. He was in fine form teasing them all back about wasting away, not quite rising to the flirtation stage, but enjoying himself nevertheless.

And now it was like sitting in a good old briefing. The professor was standing at the head of the table, a 2 x 3 white board propped up next to him as he lectured about the specific geology of the area they were in and the characteristics of the rock layers they were searching for. The man was clearly excited and providing way too much information at way too fast a speed. It reminded him so much of his old buddy, Daniel, he wanted to laugh out loud. If only he could introduce the two of them, he knew they'd get along famously.

Well, he had a new team now and needed to assess how best to reach these people if he was going to look out for them like he'd promised. He missed the automatic respect and authority that his rank of Colonel had given him. The last few years had been a reeducation in how to win friends and influence people. He was going to have to understand their personalities if he was going to know how to motivate them. After all, he could hardly order them to do what he said, now could he. He grinned at his own stupid joke. 'Down to business,' he scolded himself and began to study the other people around the table.

At the far end of the table next to Dr. Moore sat Dr. Brown listening attentively and smiling briefly in amusement whenever he got especially excited. There was definitely some kind of attraction there. Well, he wasn't sure if he was prepared to play matchmaker between the two, but he could help ensure their research expedition was a success. They clearly had a better idea than he did of all the logistics and day to day operations involved. He decided he would act like their collective 2IC. They would call the shots, but he'd make sure everyone else followed through, and he'd watch out for their own safety without being obvious about it. Remembering his days of being a Major, before getting his own command, he knew how to walk the fine line of being respectful while still maintaining his own authority.

Next to her, across the table from Jon, sat the four young men that had ridden up on the bus with him yesterday. He'd gotten to know Stan and his friend Robert last night during the unloading, and they had been impressed with his quick thinking in saving the girls. Both were taking notes on the geological formations Dr. Moore was describing and obviously interested in the science of it all. Great, geeks. Well, he knew how to handle them. Keep them off balance with humor and surprise them with intelligent comments and questions once in awhile. Stan had allowed as he had come last year with Dr. Moore, so Jon figured he wouldn't have to look after him, and he counted on Stan looking out for his friend, Robert. If anything, he'd have to get information from them to be an effective team player. So Jon decided he'd play the younger brother role with them until he had a better feel for the work they were here to do. He just hoped they wouldn't give him any nuggies like a real big brother would!

The two jocks next to them posed a bigger problem. Dweedle Dee and Dweedle Dum. Jeeze, he didn't even know their names. As far as he could remember, he'd never even heard one of the big guys speak. And he'd thought Teal'c was stoic. The other one had belittled him when they got off the bus, but had softened a bit when he'd caught the table on his shoulder last night. Hmm, he'd have to get physical with these guys to get their respect. He winced a bit just imagining the pounding his body was going to take. He knew he could take them. Even with their football player muscles and larger body mass, he had agility and experience on his side. But he'd rather not beat them up to get their respect, as that could easily backfire into resentment or even festering animosity. Maybe a healthy competition during the digging would do the trick. He'd have to keep his eyes open for an opportunity.

At the end of the table between him and one of the jocks was Ashley. He hadn't really spoken to her since she'd fallen on him in getting off the bus. Even though he was supposed to be looking the other way, he turned his head and looked at her appraisingly. With short blond hair, blue eyes and a dimpled smile she was a very pretty girl. Just his type, except for the overdone makeup. He preferred a more natural look, and a more demure attitude. She had the air of the ditsy blond, aiming to put another conquest notch on her lipstick case. She was toying her fingers along the jock's arm resting on the table and glancing up with fluttering lashes from her slightly bowed head to look at the besotted young man next to her. They were paying even less attention to Dr. Moore and his briefing than he was. He was hoping the big guy would be able to look after her, as he really didn't want to get involved in some jealous triangle. But he had a feeling this girl was going to be big trouble.

Shifting on his camp stool, Jon leaned on the table resting his cheek on his hand and looked back down along his side of the table. Mindy and Susan were both listening to Dr. Moore and taking notes, although Mindy's paper showed quite a few doodles in the margins too. He studied the drawings surreptitiously. You could tell a lot about a person by their doodles. She had lots of circles and spirals that connected in swirls, with one very detailed spoked wheel down at the bottom, and he remembered her taking about biking at breakfast. She was clearly the jock among the girls and he admired her trim figure. Susan, on the other hand, was little over weight, but clearly the brains of the three. Her meticulous notes were in tiny, precise print and included lovely sketches and diagrams that reproduced the professor's own illustrations with better artistic skill. The two of them already seemed to be in his camp, so to speak. They already trusted him and he hoped he could influence them easily. They might even be able to convince some of the others for him, especially Ashley.

At the end of the table sat Neal, the graduate student. He was listening to the professor with pursed lips like he was trying to stop himself from adding to the explanation. He shook his head or nodded in agreement with a smug self importance that made Jon scowl with irritation. The label of insufferable pratt was not about to be changed from his first impression of the man. He didn't know how he'd deal with Neal. It would probably be best to just ignore him, since Jon was afraid he'd end up punching Neal in sheer frustration. He reminded Jon of that irritating scientist, Dr. McKay. Lord, that man had been an ass. He remembered how well Carter had handled McKay and wished she was here now to handle this one. Jon grinned to himself with a vivid image of her charming him with her beauty and brains. Then his grin faded and he slumped back with a sigh.

He missed her so much it was a physical ache. He'd done so well not thinking about her for months now. He'd made a mistake allowing himself to think about Teal'c this morning. That had led to remembering briefings with Daniel, and now this vision of the woman he could never have.

"You okay?" a soft voice asked as a gentle hand touched his arm.

He almost expected to see her blue eyes looking into him like only she could, but instead it was Mindy's brown ones looking concerned. As lovely as she was, she'd never come close to Sam Carter. It would take an amalgam of Mindy's brawn, Susan's brains and Ashley's beauty to even come close to what he'd found in one extraordinary woman. He'd never find anyone like her again. He had to get over Sam, and they only way he knew how to deal with his feelings was to stuff them inside so far that he denied their existence.

He shrugged his shoulders and the very real pain on his bruised one helped him focus. He mentally turned his emotional devastation into physical pain that he knew how to deal with. It was hardly a forced grimace as he whispered, "Shoulder hurts a little." Mindy looked guilty and he realized he hadn't thought through his response, "just need a little Advil is all," he added.

"Question?" asked a deep voice. They looked away from each other and back to the head of the table where Dr. Moore stood with lifted eyebrows.

"Jon needs some Advil," Mindy quickly responded, trying to make up from having caused his injury in the first place.

"Well, I think I've given you enough background information. It's time we get on the trail and see everything first hand anyway. So, everyone be ready to hike in fifteen minutes," Dr. Moore decided.

As the ripples of his lie spread, Jon looked down at the table in embarrassment rather than face everyone looking at him. Before he could even stand, half the students had already walked away to get day packs ready.

'So not going there again. Be. Here. Now.' Jon ordered himself, and moved to join them.

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Stan stood slowly looking astutely at the young man sitting with a bowed head. He was sure he knew what was bothering Jon, and it wasn't his shoulder. It was Neal. No one had missed Neal's rude comments the night before, and just now, he'd seen Jon wince while he was looking at the graduate student. Having been on last year's expedition, Stan felt like he had a better handle on how to deal with the pompous idiot and determined that he'd have to look out for Jon.

"Hey," he called as Jon finally stood up. "Do you need help with your pack? I could carry some water for you," he offered.

"I already know…"Jon began as they met around the table, but quickly changed demeanor. "How much do you think we'll need to carry?" he asked back in a loud voice.

Stan looked at him in surprise until he saw Jon's head shrug towards the other students pawing in the packs they had brought, and he nodded in understanding. "Well, I'd travel light today. The professor's likely to stomp us all around. Put sunscreen on now, wear a hat. I don't think we'll need a rain poncho, storms come up later in the afternoon. Just a couple liters of water will be heavy enough," he laughed as he watched Ashley put a battery powered personal fan in her pack. "Try to keep it as light as possible, girls."

Jon moved to his own large pack and unzipped the bottom portion to retrieve his field vest. He'd sent an email to George a few weeks ago, expecting a new one, but had gotten his old one in the mail. The address label made out in his own handwriting. It was too freaky sometimes to think about his older self, but he was grateful for the gift. The weathered vest was broken in just right and its soft webbing would be a lot easier on his shoulder than the straps of a pack.

Stan had walked back, holding out a liter bottle of water, "Got room for this?"

Jon nodded, taking the bottle and attaching it to a loop at his waist. He patted the pockets familiarly. Mini first aid kit, compass, field glasses, safety matches, protein bars, all purpose pocket knife, check. All he needed was a P-90 hung from his shoulder and it would feel complete. He pulled out the first aid kit and extracted a packet of two Advils that he ripped open and dry swallowed.

"That's a great vest," complimented Robert walking up to join them, "look at all the pockets. I think I need one. Where'd you get it?"

"Air force surplus. There's one near Peterson," he lied, hoping there was indeed such a store near the air force base.

"Too bad I'll have to wait until we get back to the Springs," Robert replied.

Jon looked up at the open smiling faces of the other two young men and felt himself relax. They were trying to be his friend and he just had to meet them half way.

"Everybody ready?" called Dr. Moore. "Let me introduce you to the mountain," he gestured outside and turned to lead the way.

Jon gave a half smile. It wasn't the exuberant grin of the morning, but he had found equilibrium again from his dip towards depression. It was time to move on both in reality and emotionally.


	3. Senses Working Overtime

Younger than a Dinosaur

Chapter Three: Senses Working Overtime

by Leanne Scott

Summary: What does mini Jack do over summer vacation?

Disclaimer: I don't own him, yada, yada. But all the rest of the characters were given to me by the writing muse fairy.

Thanks again for the encouraging reviews. I've got a fun twist planned. I hope you like where this all goes…

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Dr. Gil Moore was enjoying his view on the trail, but he'd never admit it to anyone. Neal led the way as he'd proclaimed he knew the best route up the mountainside. Dr. Keiko Brown followed him, returning his geological prattle occasionally in a patient and polite voice. While Gil ignored all the conversation and watched her backside proceed him, admiring her shapely calves and nimble feet as they ascended the steep trail.

As they came up to a shelf of rock that afforded a relatively flat place to rest he called a stop. Keiko smiled gratefully at him as she turned and took off her pack to get some water. Gill found a large rock to sit on back against the cliff and looked down the newly blazed trail at the students following them up the mountain. The three girls and the two football players had stuck together right behind him, and they soon assembled in a tired, panting heap around them. Bringing up the rear were the remaining three boys, who appeared in much better shape than the rest. They were laughing even as they climbed and he was relieved to see the camaraderie. He had been a little worried about how Jon was going to fit in with the older students but he seemed to be connecting easily.

"So then she asked, all serious like she knew what she was saying, 'Is that a Pincher Sniperman?'" exclaimed Robert.

"For a Doberman?" spurted Jon with a laugh.

"Ha! Can you believe it?" chuckled Stan in agreement just as their heads came up to the level of the shelf. Stan looked over everyone with a big grin, "Hi-ya gang! Whatssup?"

The other two burst into laughter at some previous joke now at the expense of everyone else. Neal scowled at the three, "Juveniles," he muttered.

Gil gave Neal a glare of his own, "There's nothing wrong with having a little fun" he chided. Then turning his back on Neal, he called, "Hi yourself. Come join us for a short break," he invited them with a sweep of his arm.

After having spent the last 30 minutes staring down at the ground looking out for loose rocks and finding hand holds to keep balance, it was the first time many of them could really enjoy the view. They had gained a good thousand feet in elevation and the river valley opened up before them. Stretching generally east to west with meandering curves, the Yampa River glistened in the full morning sun below them. The land gave way on either side in waves and shelves just like the one they found themselves upon, to end at the coppery tops of the crags that seemed to carve the clouds out of the blue sky.

"There!" burst Jon, pointing up off to the left. Then a confirming hawk's cry helped focus the other's eyes as the bird lazily spiraled on an updraft.

"How'd you see that?" asked Derrick, one of the jocks.

"See what?" demanded his friend Dwain.

Jon looked at the football player in surprise, biting his tongue from quipping, 'You can talk?'. Although he smiled to himself with his own joke.

Unfortunately, his smile made him look a bit smug and Neal misinterpreted it. "We will all see lots of hawks while we're working here. It's no big deal," he said dismissively.

"Yes it is," insisted Susan speaking up now that she'd caught her breath. "Both the endangered bald eagle and the golden eagle live in this preserve and we should never be jaded to seeing such beauty."

Jon looked over and smiled at her in agreement, "It's a beautiful golden alright."

"How can you be sure," she asked in return.

"Oh, it doesn't have the white head feathers of course," he replied casually, turning back to admire the large bird as it spiraled away from them.

"Wow, can you really see it that clearly?" asked Robert, his new friend, in admiration.

Jon looked back at the others surprised at their surprise. "Sure, can't you?" he replied, silently adding, 'For crying out loud! You've all spent too much time under fluorescent lighting.'

"Well, we're almost there everyone. Let's get a move on the last bit of slope," Gil rallied them, deciding it was time to deflect attention from Jon. "Lead the way," he gestured to Neal as way of apology for scolding him earlier, and they all continued up the cliff.

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They were about half way up the mountain side when Dr. Moore called a halt again. It wasn't as steep, but the broad slope was covered in boulders and scree interspersed with hardy tufts of grass and small junipers clinging to depressions where a hope of moisture might linger. The sun was now almost at zenith and the coolness of morning was only a memory. Shrugging off his backpack, Moore took out a lump wrapped in a bandana. He unwrapped the object carefully setting it down at his feet, then Moore mopped his face and tied the bandana to shade his neck. Everyone else had settled down on the slope or perched on rocks, backpacks off, drinking water and watching him curiously.

"This," he said with a flourish as he swept the object at his feet back up and held it out cupped in his hands like a trophy, "this is a dinosaur bone. Notice the darker coloration than these rocks around us." He gestured with his head, rather than let go with even one hand. "I'm sure that this is an area where we might find fossils. If we're lucky, wind and rain have eroded some of the surrounding rock leaving something like this sticking out. Your first job is to zigzag all over this slope, looking for darker rocks. We'll break into groups of two, with first timers pairing up with those of us who've been here before."

Jon settled back against a boulder panning his eyes across the group without moving his head, curious what sort of leader Dr. Moore would be in organizing these pairs. Would they be the same as he would have ordered?

"Derrick, Dwain," he gestured to the pair of jocks, "you'll go with me and Neal. We'll head up to the top of the slope and then branch east and west from there."

Jon gave a half smile. Ah, their names were Derrick and Dwain. Better than Tweedle Dee and Dum, but he still didn't know which one was which.

"I want to go with Mindy," announced Ashley, "and we'll search right here in the middle. I'm tired of all this hiking," she complained.

Jon watched Dr. Moore's face as he clearly went through some decision process. The man was probably a terrible poker player.

"Let's try it for today and see how it goes," Moore finally agreed. "Stan, you take Robert off to the east slope."

Jon bit his tongue from speaking out. Maybe he was being old fashioned, but he would have made sure the girls had better protection. He would have had Stan lead Ashley, and Mindy lead Robert. He was worried for Mindy that Ashley would be pretty helpless if they ran into any wild animals or got hurt on the trail.

"Good. That leaves Jon for me to get better acquainted with," declared Dr. Keiko Brown.

Whipping his head left to look at her, Jon was suddenly more fearful of the women on the trail than any wild animals. He barely shared personal information with good friends; he wasn't going to suffer an inquisition easily. "And Susan can come with us!" he exclaimed with forced cheerfulness, hoping to use her to deflect Dr. Brown's attention .

"Then it's settled. Team leaders, come get some orange flags to stick into the dirt near anything you think may be a fossil. You can brush dirt off, but don't go digging right away until we get a preliminary analysis of its placement in the rock strata. If you find something really big, blow a whistle every five minutes so we can find you. Otherwise, let's plan to meet back here in two hours, um,' he looked at his watch, "at around 1:15. We'll decide whether to go on or back to camp then. Okay, good luck everyone."

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"So, Jon," Dr. Brown began in a friendly voice as they walked towards the west, "Will you be taking Dr. Moore's paleontology class next fall?"

"No."

"Aren't you planning to major in geology?"

"No."

"Do you know what you want to major in?

"No."

"Do you have a favorite subject?"

"No."

She looked at him in exasperation, "Moore tells me you're a gifted student, but your current vocabulary belies that statement."

Jon shrugged, "I'll make an effort to study, if I'm interested in the subject."

Heartened by his full sentence, Brown tried again, "So, are you looking forward to going to CU in the fall?

"Not going," he shrugged again in response.

"You didn't get in? After being in the high school exchange program?" she asked with disbelief.

"Didn't apply."

"So where are you planning to go"

"Well, I only applied to the Air Force Academy.

"And…?"

"And what?"

Dr. Brown looked over to Susan, "Is he always like this?"

"Actually, I only just met Jon yesterday, so I don't know," replied Susan, grinning widely. "I think he's shy."

"Hmph," Jon snorted in response, and the two women laughed.

"And are you going to the Academy?" Brown continued with determination.

"I'm accepted to the program, but I'm not sure it's the best place for me," he admitted.

"Why? Is your uncle pushing you into it?" asked Susan joining in the interrogation.

"No. We never see each other. He got promoted to a job in DC last spring," Jon answered vaguely.

"Wait a minute. O'Neill in Washington?" asked Dr. Brown, stopping suddenly in the trail. She stared at Jon trying to make out his expression under his ball cap and sunglasses.

"You've heard of him then?" Jon replied with a touch of pride.

"Didn't he save Vice President Kinsey from assassination a couple years ago? Back when he was a Senator, I mean."

"Unfortunately," he grunted, turning and walking away.

"Wait," Susan called hurrying to catch up with his long strides. "So what's your uncle doing now?"

Filled with bile at the thought of Kinsey, Jon forgot to censor his answer, "He's head of Home World Security."

"Don't you mean Homeland Security?" asked Dr. Brown as she came up from behind. "And I thought the secretary was Judge Chertoff. Wasn't that his name?"

Jon flinched as he realized his mistake, "Yeah, you're right, wrong title, he's in a subdivision of Homeland Security. Anyway, he's not the reason I have doubts about the Air Force Academy." He actually tried to bring the interrogation back to himself and away from questions about the General.

"Well, you seem very fit, so the training shouldn't be hard, and the course work won't be any harder than what you've experienced with college classes," reassured Brown.

"I don't think I could take being ordered around," he admitted. "I have a bit of a problem with authority and tend to be sarcastic."

"I hear they have a lot of cadet hazing, especially for the first years," Susan added sympathetically.

"Yeah," agreed Jon sadly, "So immature."

"But you don't have any other options because you only applied to the Academy," Susan finally put all the pieces together.

"I can endure it," he sighed. They walked along in silence a while, eyes scanning the ground for any tell tale dark rocks.

"Are you a geology major, Susan?" asked Dr. Brown deciding to switch focus.

"It's my minor," the girl replied. "I'm actually a history major. I find antiquities fascinating and would like to go to grad school to study more. But you know, so many ancient civilizations have been buried, you kind of need to know about rocks to even find evidence of them."

Jon slowed his steps and allowed the two chatting women to draw ahead of him on the trail. He listened idly to their conversation, imagining a time when students could go off world and do research by observing societies still in the mold of those found in antiquity on the Earth. Given the current security of the Stargate project, THAT would never happen. But wasn't it a shame? He had to admit that Daniel's knowledge of ancient civilizations had gotten them out of trouble as often as his knowledge of military strategy.

Why had he assumed going through the military was the only path for him?

He remembered the last time he'd seen his older self, when they had parted in front of the high school over three years ago. 'From here on in, you and me are different,' he'd told him. But had he changed really? Jon had to admit he liked the younger knees, but except for knowledge he'd finally learned in school, his personality really hadn't changed much. He was still secretive and lonely, and didn't see any hope of putting his black ops skills in use any time soon. He was frustrated about not knowing what threats the Goa'uld currently presented and about not being allowed to help. More than anything, he just wanted to help.

"Guess that's why you signed up for this little expedition, old man," he muttered aloud.

Suddenly, with a yelp, Susan disappeared right in front of his eyes.

Dr. Brown fell to the ground clutching at a bush as a cloud of dust billowed up around her.

"What the…!" he sprinted forward, skidding to a halt a meter away from a yawning hole.

"Susan!" yelled Dr. Brown.

There was no answer as the two looked at each other in horror.

Kneeling in place, Jon reached out his hand, "Give me your hand," he ordered.

Brown reached out cautiously with her free hand and allowed him to pull her backwards while she tried to squirm away from the crumbling edge of the rock. They were on a relatively flat portion of hard rock, revealed by the erosion of softer sediments above, covering another layer of softer rocks below that crumbled in a slope to their right. The rock shelf had obviously thinned over the years so that Susan had broken through and fallen into an otherwise concealed cave below.

"Susan! Can you hear me?" he called. Lying on his stomach, he inched forward trying to get a view down the hole.

Brown wrung her hands, muttering, "Be careful, be careful."

"Help," came a faint reply.

"Are you hurt?" he asked straining to see into the dark hole without effect.

"My leg," she moaned, "I've cut it on a rock down here. I think it's bleeding."

"Can you scoot out of the way?"

"Ohhh," she moaned.

"Susan, listen to me," he ordered her in a calm voice. "I'm coming down to help you, but you have to get away from the hole. I don't want to fall on top of you. CAN you scoot out of the way?"

"O-o-kay," she whimpered back, and he could hear scuffling noises from below.

"Jon?" asked Dr. Brown in a worried tone.

He inched back and pushed himself up, sitting back on his knees. Taking off his cap and sunglasses, he held them up towards her and stared into her eyes. "Someone has to help her. I know first aid and I'm stronger to help her out." He silently implored her to acknowledge his abilities and not treat him like a child.

Brown stared back into his confident brown gaze and mutely nodded agreement.

Turning in place, he laid down again on his stomach, but this time pushed his way backwards until he felt the edge of the hole with his toes. "Stay back," he yelled, then pushed himself so his legs hung over the edge, just as he bent at the torso, the edge crumbled further and he slid the rest of the way into the cave with a crash.

"Ooof," he exhaled, finding himself sitting in a pile of rubble. He ruffled his hand through his hair to brush the dust out. "Susan, you all right?" he called out softly into the dark. Struggling to adjust his eyes to the dark after the bright sun above, he looked around at the surprisingly large cave that wound back into the mountain.

"Here," she replied weakly over to his right.

"Jon, are you all right?" yelled Brown from above.

Looking up at the ceiling and the hole in it above him, he judged the distance to be about three meters. Too high to jump back up, but luckily not so high that he'd broken anything. "Yeah, Dr. Brown, I'm okay. Let me look at Susan," he yelled back.

Standing carefully, he assessed himself for injury, but except for his old shoulder bruise he was fine. Picking his way over the rubble and uneven floor of the cave, he moved towards Susan, who was huddled back in the shadows. He felt in his vest pockets, and pulled out his mini mag-light turning the bright white beam on the disheveled girl.

"Ow," she complained, shielding her eyes.

"Sorry," he said, tipping the beam down towards her legs. Her left calf was bleeding from a long gash and he quickly pulled his first aid kit out of another pocket. He unclipped his water and poured a liberal amount over the would to wash off the dirt. Then he unwrapped a sterile pad and pressed it to the wound holding it tightly to stop the bleeding.

"Hold this," he ordered her and then moved back towards to bright sunlight streaming down through the large hole they had made in the ceiling. "Dr. Brown! You have to go get help. We're going to need a rope to get out of here. Give me your water bottle, then head back for the others," he commanded her.

"Shouldn't I just blow my whistle?" she questioned his plan.

"NO! Someone will have to go all the way back to camp for rope, you have to meet them as soon as possible. Blow your whistle but head back to meet them," he explained.

"Right," she agreed. "I'm rolling my bottle over the edge now."

He heard crunching noises and then had to lunge to catch the bottle before it hit the ground and burst. "Got it" he exclaimed happily. The old reflexes were better than ever. He heard Brown blow the whistle shrilly and then quiet filled the cave. Turning back to Susan, he saw her clutching her leg, wincing in pain and went back into paramedic mode.

"Time to fix you up, young lady," he said reassuringly. He knelt by her side and fished a packet of Advil out of the first aid kit. Ripping it open, he poured the pills into her hand and offered her the water bottle.

Susan put the pills into her mouth and took the bottle with a shaky hand to wash them down. Meanwhile, Jon had peeled the bloody pad away and held out another to replace it over the wound. She looked up at him gratefully, "Thanks for falling down after me," she joked.

Jon chuckled, "I have a working relationship with gravity." He looked down to tear some medical tape to hold on the new bandage, when he felt her clutch his shoulder. He looked up at her face expecting another joke, but was surprised to see apprehension as her wide opened eyes looked past him into the darkness of the cave.

"Something moved," she whispered throatily.

"Relax. We just made that 'door' in the roof, how could anything.…" He froze as the distinctive crack of a rock falling on another rock sounded behind his back. All the various possible animals whirled in his head as their eyes met, "Oh, crap," he whispered back. "Don't move. Don't make a sound," he ordered, reaching up and giving her shoulder a squeeze of reassurance.

Moving slowly, he set down the first aid kit and pawed the pockets of his vest for his knife. Staying in a crouch, he turned as he flicked the blade open with a sharp click. Simultaneously, Jon's senses clicked on in high gear as adrenalin flooded his system.

Shadowy movement beyond the motes floating in the shaft of light between him and the cave's back.

Hesitant footsteps, padded softly without hard nails to scratch the ground. A strange swishing sound.

A sharp, pungent odor. He licked his lips and could almost taste it.

A puff of wind ruffled his hair and made the hairs on his neck stand up.

He shifted the knife in his suddenly sweaty palm, trying to get a stronger grip.

A snuffling sound. The animal was testing the breeze for their scent, and he hoped they didn't smell as afraid as they felt.

Yellow eyes gleamed in the dark reflecting the light from the hole above as the large shape loomed on the other side of the rubble from their fall.

It was a mountain lion.

Susan gasped and clutched his arm digging her nails into his skin without realizing it.

"Must have been sleeping," he muttered more to himself than to her. His mind grasped at the only good thing its presence indicated, "There's gotta be another way out of here." His mind whirled with possible strategies, but they all ended with one inescapable truth.

He was going to have to kill a mountain lion.

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TBC: But this posting is for Erisinia Gazelle who found this story (somehow) down in the 200's and left me a review asking for more.

And Village-Mystic, I was writing about his college plans just as you sent me the review! Great minds think alike I guess. Hope you enjoy it. More on the way!


	4. Gene Promotion

Younger than a Dinosaur

Chapter Four: Gene Promotion

by Leanne Scott

Summary: What does mini Jack do over summer vacation? Things go from bad to worse…

Disclaimer: I don't own him, yada, yada. But all the rest of the characters were given to me by the writing muse fairy.

Thanks again for the encouraging reviews. Sorry about that cliffhanger, but you just kept pestering me to post again! Anyway, hope you like the next part…

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A breeze brought no welcome coolness, but a pungent odor that reminded her of the zoo. Susan saw the hairs on Jon's neck stand up as she strained to see into the darkness over his shoulder. As the rustling shape of a mountain lion loomed into the light, she grabbed his arm before freezing in terror.

Jon's quiet voice pulled her back from the depths of despair and as she finally made sense of his mutterings, they gave her hope, "…gotta be another way out of here."

They crouched together facing the silent predator, that eyed them with equal parts suspicion and curiosity. It wasn't particularly hungry, just annoyed to have its haven of rest disturbed by all this light and noise. She could tell by the sleepy expression in its eyes that reminded her of the cat she'd had as a child. It settled into a crouch across from them, its tail the only thing moving as it brushed slowly across the ground with a swishing sound.

They all just stared at each other.

The timeless moment was broken when Jon reached up slowly and pulled on the fingers digging into his right arm. She felt his muscles flex under her hand as she relaxed her grip. His fingers slipped around hers and he squeezed reassuringly. Still holding her hand as it slid downward along his arm, he turned slightly into her to get her attention. Finally looking away from the lion, she could see only a quarter of his face, but could tell by the clench in his jaw that he was determined to do something. "Susan, do not move. Don't make a sound," he ordered again very quietly. His eyes never left the lion's, whose ears twitched at the sound of his voice.

She stifled a gasp as he let go of her hand and slowly stood up.

"Sorry to barge in on you like this," he said in a loud voice to the lion and took a careful step away from Susan. The lion's tail stopped twitching.

"We'd have left already if we could. I'm sure you know an easier way out of here. I don't suppose you'd just lead the way?" Jon took slow steps away from Susan in a semicircle, never getting closer but never getting farther away from the lion. It watched him with a slight tilt to its head as if not sure what to make of him.

Susan was amazed at Jon's audacity. He was completely fearless as he moved, talking to the lion like it could understand him. She watched with relief as the animal shifted position to maintain alignment with him and away from her.

His stoic face changed to a small grin as an idea struck him. "So, you look like a nice healthy cat. You've got some strong legs there. I think maybe you can make that 9 foot jump that we just can't quite make," Jon suddenly gestured up at the hole above their heads with his left hand. The lion followed the motion turning its head to look up before turning its gaze back on the man paused with one hand in the air and one hand holding the knife that gleamed in reflected light.

"Yep, that's the way Kitty. We all win if you just jump on out of here." He had managed to move about a quarter circle away from Susan towards the back of the cave where there was more room to maneuver if a fight ensued, but maybe now it wouldn't come to that. Susan felt her hopes rise as she comprehended Jon's plan and prayed silently that the mountain lion would get the idea and leave.

"Go on. Scat cat! Shoo!" he yelled loudly, startling the cat to its feet. The lion gathered its legs under its mass and flicked its eyes upward and then back at the confident, defiant man. It growled in surprise, but he pushed the limits holding his arms out wide to look as big as possible and took a single step forward, leaning over the animal as he ordered, "KREE!"

It sprang upward and away from him toward the daylight and freedom. Susan gasped for air as she suddenly realized she'd been holding her breath, absolutely amazed that Jon's ploy worked.

Or not.

Time turned into slow motion as the lion's back legs scrambled on crumbling rock.

Dust motes filled the air as the thin rock roof cracked from the full grown lion's weight.

Small and then large pieces of rock fell crashing with sharp sounds almost like gunfire as they hit the floor of the cave.

The sharp taste of bile filled the back of Susan's throat as the lion followed the rocks back down into the cave with them.

"Oh crap," exclaimed Jon.

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Jon moved before he had really thought out his actions.

As the lion landed with a roar of anger in the heap of rocks, he threw himself on top of it, slashing his knife along the length of its side. Bright red blood welled up along its flank and it roared again, now in pain. Jon struck again but the element of surprise was gone and the animal whirled, throwing him off its back.

There was nothing left to do but fight now. Somehow he had managed to hold on to the knife, now slick with blood. But having the knife gave him at least a small chance of success. He'd take whatever he could get.

The lion growled menacingly, turning to spring on him.

Jon growled back with an equally primitive drive to survive. The lion pounced on air, as he twirled sideways with one of the Jaffa moves he had practiced only that morning. His best hope was to evade injury until the lion slowed down due to blood loss from its wound.

The lion roared again in frustration now, and the sound reverberated deafeningly inside the cave. It expected this sound to freeze its prey in terror, but this strange two legged creature didn't respond like anything it had ever encountered before.

Flowing adrenalin made him want to move, but he forced himself to crouch warily in front of the furious beast, waiting for its next move. 'If I only had a zat gun,' Jon thought.

The lion sprung again, and again he whirled away just out of its reach. "Not your dinner today cat," he taunted.

The sound of his voice just infuriated the animal and it roared again, but not with quite the same force as its life blood continued to run down its side. Trying a different tactic, the lion stood on its hind legs, pawing the air, and as Jon tried to back up, he tripped over a rock from the crumbled ceiling, falling unceremoniously on his backside. The lion fell forward snapping its jaws on his lower leg, and shook its head with anger.

Steeling his mind from the pain, Jon focused his attention on his other leg and used it to kick his boot heel into the lion's face. The third blow stuck its eye and he felt it drop his leg in response. He forced himself to scramble away and back onto his feet although he had basically all his weight on his good leg. Surprisingly, the pain faded to a dull throb, allowing him to contemplate his next move.

If this was a Goa'uld he'd insult it about now. He stared at the baleful eyes of the lion. "Your mother was a dachshund and your father was a hair ball," Jon said derisively.

Hysterical laughter distracted both their attentions, and their heads turned simultaneously to look at Susan kneeling to the side with tears pouring down her face as she laughed manically. The two combatants turned back to look at each other in mutual surprise, and Jon almost felt like he could read the lion's mind. They were undoubtedly two of the strangest creatures it had ever met.

The moment of kinship vanished as the lion roared again, but this time sprang towards the girl. Jon launched himself at its side, knocking the lion to the ground as they tumbled together at her feet. Jon stabbed it twice more with the knife, but that only served to anger the lion more. It twisted its sinewy body and struck him with a bloody paw, both ripping his shirt and tossing him backwards into the wall. Hitting the back of his head, Jon slid downward, dazed, as the lion snarled and pounced on him. Throwing his arm up instinctively in front of his face, the lion closed its jaws with a sickening snap as both the radius and ulna in his left arm broke. Jon feebly tried to hit it with the knife, but his mind reeled with the pain.

A resounding thud sounded just above him, and Jon struggled to make sense his vision, as the lion let go of his arm and rolled over him to crouch on his right side. Standing to the left side, with a long rock, like a stalagmite, in her hands, Susan yelled defiantly at the lion, "Leave already!"

The lion shook its head to clear the blow it had received, but it looked almost like it was responding "No" to her.

Without ever having had combat training, she didn't stand a chance. The lion sprang on her, raking its claws along her side and closing its jaws on her shoulder as her scream echoed from the back of the cave.

Jon pushed himself to his feet with the knife still clutched in his fist. His other arm hung uselessly at his side, and he felt the blood trailing into his boot from where his leg had been bitten, but oddly, he didn't feel any pain. He froze only a moment in horror as the lion mauled the girl, then threw himself onto the beast's back again to try to save her. He tried to hold on to the lion's back with his knees as it bucked under him like some kind of frenzied bronco.

Somehow he managed to get his knife hand up under its throat. He could feel the vibration of its growl against his wrist. Twisting his hand he got the point of his blade into the folds of skin, then drawing back and across with all his might he garroted the lion's throat. Blood gushed down over his hand and onto the girl as the animal died and fell on top of her with Jon on top of it.

Taking a shaky breath, Jon slid to the side, throwing his shoulder into the lion's side and heaved it off of Susan with a groan. He fell to her side, finally dropping the knife in all the gore.

Reaching out a shaky hand, he turned her face towards his and was relieved to see her eye lids flutter open. "Hey, hang in there. We're going to make it," he tried to encourage her with false enthusiasm.

"Jon," she whispered weakly. "You killed it?"

"Yes, everything is going to be okay."

"No, I…," she coughed blood up on to her chin. Jon was trying to ascertain her injuries in the dim light, but with all the lion's blood, he had a hard time telling where she was bleeding. "Where are you hurt?" he asked trying to think of any first aid he could do with a broken arm himself.

"My chest," she coughed, sputtering blood again.

He pulled up on her shirt and drew in a sharp breath at the sight. The lion had clawed her side open and then broke some ribs when it fell on her, so that a bone stuck out gruesomely. She needed immediate medical help, and he didn't see any chance of that occurring.

"Susan," he began.

"I know," she looked at him with admiration. "You were magnificent," she breathed.

He scooted around her and lifted her shoulders gently with his good arm to rest her head on his good leg to help ease her breathing. He brushed her hair softly, knowing her lungs were filling with blood and that she would die drowning in her own blood. "I'm sorry," he said softly gazing into her eyes with all his compassion.

She melted into his warm brown eyes, and felt the pain draining away from her, "Wasn't your…fault," she tried to reassure him back.

He wanted to help her, but he knew it was hopeless. His emotions welled up in a kaleidoscope of pain, fear, sadness, gratitude, frustration, pride and anger. Something just snapped inside him and he felt a power growing in his mind that he had felt before, but had never been able to control.

_I can help_.

A voice echoed in his own head and placing his hand over her heart, he bowed his head over the girl as if in prayer.

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Brigadier General Jonathan "Jack" O'Neill was having a hard time paying attention. Now that wasn't so unusual, but typically he didn't pay attention because someone was droning on about scientific details. This afternoon was different, because he was meeting with fellow Air Force officers to discuss deployment of support troops and allocation of materials to the bases he oversaw, namely Area 51, the Antarctic outpost and the SGC. This was important to the people he cared about.

He was mad at himself. He was afraid he was losing it.

It started last night. Just for a while, he'd felt this rush of adrenalin. So he'd done calisthenics for half an hour, until he'd finally felt weary and could sleep.

He hadn't given it another thought until mid morning. He'd been going about his business, stoic and calm as usual. He'd been burned too many times to ever let his emotions run unchecked. When suddenly, he was incredibly happy. It was a surprising joy. A jolt of pure happiness. Out of nowhere.

He'd positively burbled a cheery thank you when his aide had brought him coffee and had given her one of his biggest, most charming grins. She had practically tripped backing up out of his office with a big blush on her face. God, he'd never suspected that she was one of the silly junior officers with a crush on him too. And despite his attempts to maintain his usual sour façade, the sense of well being had persisted.

Until now. He'd felt that rush of adrenalin again. Just sitting at a conference table, for crying out loud! He glanced surreptitiously around the table wondering if he was subconsciously picking up on a spy in their midst. But it looked like five of the most upstanding officers you'd ever want to trust your life to sitting with him. The conversation bounced back and forth between Major Paul Davis, a long time friend to the SGC and himself, and Colonel Mike Wesley, who had overseen operations in Antarctica when he had been frozen in the Ancient's suspended animation device a year ago.

He tried valiantly to listen to their strategizing of ways to coordinate efforts between the two bases but he felt like he was going to burst out of his skin. His senses were hyper-alert. He could hear the hiss of the ventilation system blowing air conditioning into the room, even make out the hum of the fluorescent lights in the ceiling. He felt the weight of his uniform jacket on his arms, but it gave him no warmth as goose bumps rose up when he caught a whiff of a sharp, pungent smell.

Just as suddenly, the smell was gone and he looked around at the other men again to see if they had experienced it as well. They were all still focused on the discussion. He sniffed experimentally, wondering if he just needed a shower, but he knew his own smell well enough after missions for days out in the field. The smell had been something much more feral, more gamy, like something out of the zoo. Not a trace of it lingered in the room.

Yep, he was losing it. He took a deep breath and leaned his chin on his hand and closed his eyes to try to regain his focus.

It was a mistake.

The vision of a mountain lion standing just beyond a shaft of light seemed so real that he jerked back, rising to his feet and knocked the chair over backwards as he did. He slapped his hand to his hip where he'd worn his Beretta for so many years on missions. But, of course, it wasn't there.

Sheepishly, he looked back at the startled faces of the other officers who were all gazing at him with concern

"Sir, are you all right?" asked Davis coming to his senses first. He glanced at the closed door and then around the room with narrowed eyes. He would believe O'Neill if he told him invisible aliens had just entered the room. The Retoo had done it before.

"I'm, ah, I'm not sure," O'Neill admitted staring into Davis's trusting eyes. Could he really lead his men if he was imagining things? Maybe all the years of injuries and abuse at the hands of his enemies was getting to him.

"Sir? Let me help you," Davis was instantly at his side, straightening the chair upright and guiding him by pulling on his elbow to sit down.

O'Neill felt his heart racing, sweat broke out on his brow and he convulsed his right hand into a fist a few times trying to hold an invisible weapon.

Leaning over, Davis placed his fingers at the General's neck to take his pulse and felt it pounding with the fight or flight response. "Call the medics," he ordered one of the other men.

O'Neill blinked his eyes trying to clear his vision. It seemed to alternate between the well lit conference room and a dim cave, between the concerned face of Major Davis and the angry stare of a mountain lion.

His eyes glazed over as the vision took over. He threw out his arms knocking Davis over and shouted, "KREE!" before passing out in a slump in the chair.

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Jack was drawn toward the scene like a moth to a flame. It had been months since he had seen action, probably not since defending the SGC against the Replicators last winter. The hormones released during the thrill of battle were as addictive as any synthetic drug. He longed for the sensation of the immediate now, all of his senses heightened for survival. But he felt a strange detachment in the scene as if he was both there and a voyeur. He heard his own voice say, "Oh crap!" even though the thought hadn't occurred to him yet.

In fascination, he watched the mountain lion fall in a heap along with rocks from above. He realized that his only chance was to attack before it had recovered its senses from the fall. Feeling a knife in his hand, where only moments before there had been none, he launched himself at the lion.

As the lion shook him off, he felt the blade slipping from his bloody hand and clutched it fiercely as he gave his wrist a twist to free it from the animal's hide.

The lion growled and sensing its move before it pounced, he prepared himself to twirl away.

And suddenly he wasn't there anymore.

He blinked as he felt himself being lowered out of the chair, feeling several sets of hands around his shoulders and along his legs. He really didn't want to deal with the possibility of being insane and didn't want to wake up in a conference room in the Pentagon.

The siren call of sensation pulled his consciousness back to the battle with a lion. Jack watched in amazement as the lion bit his leg and began to shake him, but there was no pain at all. He tried to kick his other foot into the lion's face, but his leg took a moment to respond. With a blow to the eye, the lion let go and he found himself struggling to stand. Suddenly, the pain of his leg swept over him. He focused his mind on isolating and containing the sensation in a technique he had developed over years of injuries.

Next thing he knew he was listening to the crazed laughter of a girl. 'Where did she come from?' he managed to wonder, before he realized the lion was springing for her now. His protective instincts took over and he hurled himself into the beast's side knocking it off course. He was mildly confused by the collision, and was vaguely aware of the battle continuing with him on autopilot until he hit his head again on the rock wall. The lion's face loomed down to bite him and he threw his arm up in protection. The loud crunch and snap of the bones was followed by another loud thud as the beast's head was knocked sideways by a rock.

Jack stared at the hand in front of him as he slowly lowered his injured limb. It was his hand, the shape and size was right, and yet it wasn't. Where were all the freckles and wrinkles from years spend out doors? It was like a younger hand. He began to suspect something. Could it be?

Having a psychic connection with his clone wasn't any stranger than having a clone in the first place, was it?

The possibility that he was vicariously experiencing a real event was infinitely more preferable to the idea that he was having a nervous breakdown.

And if that was the case, then two people's lives were in real jeopardy. What could he really do to help?

He felt all the aches and pains of a battered body and realized he could focus on taking all that away in order to let his younger self continue the battle. He gathered all the pain in an imaginary bundle and carted it off to the metaphorical dump in his mind. He was only dimly aware of the feel of fur on his face, the smell of wild cat in his nostrils, the sound of growling in his ear, the warmth of blood as it gushed over the knife clenched in his sticky hand.

Slowly he realized the girl looking up at him. "Jon," she whispered weakly. "You killed it?" No not him. He was not Jon. He was Jack.

It was true then. The more he thought about it the more certain he became. It felt like the connection he had with Joe Spencer, only more intense. Not just thoughts or memories but real time sensations were being shared. But was it only a one way connection? Granted Jon had been a bit busy here battling for his life against a mountain lion, but could Jon experience his feelings too?

Jack sensed the maelstrom of emotions threatening to overload first Jon's and then his own senses. Instinctively, he connected with the body of knowledge downloaded from the Ancient's memory device and stored in his subconscious. The Asgard had removed much of the tremendous fact base, but anything he had personally experienced was still there. He had never actively set out to find this superhuman power, but he had healed Braytac before, and he could do it again.

Mentally, he reached out to call to his other self.

_I can help._

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"Who are you?" asked Jon.

"It's Me."

"Who?"

"You know. The older you," replied Jack patiently.

"Oh! Umm, how?"

"We've got a psychic connection here, buddy."

"That's weird."

"Tell me about it. I'm supposed to be in a meeting at the Pentagon," complained Jack

"It never happened before," doubted Jon.

"You never fought a mountain lion before either," Jack countered. "Look, I stuck my head in an Ancient depository last year and it really changed me this time," admitted Jack. "I healed Master Braytac. I think I can help you heal this girl, and even yourself."

"So how did you know I needed help?" asked a confused Jon.

"Hey, you called me!" protested Jack. "Somehow the adrenalin from fighting this lion activated some genes in you and allowed us to communicate."

"Hmm, I think I'll go back to my original question. How?" Jon demanded.

"The Asgard," replied Jack contemptuously.

"Damn Loki!" exclaimed Jon.

"No, actually, I think this one is Thor's fault."

"I'm back to HOW?"

"Okay, remember when you were in the medical pod back on Thor's ship and he was realigning your genetics to keep your system from simply falling apart?" started Jack.

"Not really, since I was UNCONSCIOUS, but, yeah, I remember getting into the machine, and I seemed to have come out of it okay. At least up until now," interrupted Jon.

"Okay, don't get your skirt in a bunch," scolded Jack, "Carter could probably explain it better, but I did pay attention. Thor mentioned something about having to activate certain gene promoters to repair and activate various genes and that it might have a side effect of activating hidden genes that are normally unexpressed in the modern human."

"So, what? I'm turning Neanderthal again?"

"Umm, no. I think it's more like you're turning Ancient," explained Jack.

"Oh great! Why didn't you tell me?"

"Well, it was only a possibility. I figured you didn't want to deal with the idea on top of everything else. It seemed enough that you were alive. Besides, Thor wasn't sure if the maturation process of puberty would actually turn them on or off. It was a 50-50 chance."

"Great…how much freakier can I get?" whined Jon. "When you get promoted, its to a general. When I get promoted, its my genes turning me into an extinct species!"

"Look, kid…"

"I'm NOT a kid!" Jon exclaimed bitterly.

"I'm sorry," Jack replied softly, feeling guilty that he had given so little thought to his other self over the past three years. But that was all water under the bridge, as they say. They had a serious situation on their hands, or at least in Jon's hands. "Look, Jon, here's the deal. You have the ability. I have the knowledge. WE can save this girl's life," Jack reminded Jon of the forgotten girl in his lap.

Jon opened his eyes and saw that although unconscious, she was still breathing, albeit probably not for much longer. He closed his eyes and made the mental connection to Jack. "You're right. What do I do?"

"I don't pretend to be able to explain it," started Jack, "but it's a simple process of directing the molecules where they need to go by channeling energy through your mind, then through your hand and into the wound. Practice on your leg first."

"Simple, eh?" Jon asked skeptically.

"Trust me." Jack replied, "Now let's get started…"

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When in doubt, insert break…there is more, but that's all for now, sports fans….let me know what you think of it so far. Thanks!


	5. Bending the Truth

Younger than a Dinosaur

Chapter Five: Bending the Truth

by Leanne Scott

Summary: What does mini Jack do over summer vacation?

Apologies for the long time in this chapter coming…real life and all that. I hope you find it worth the wait. Thanks again for your encouraging reviews.

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Dr. Gil Moore found himself once again following behind his fellow paleontologist, Dr. Keiko Brown, but his mind was not on her shapely backside this time. It was racing with scenarios and solutions that kept getting more and more elaborate as they skittered diagonally down the hillside to where two of his students were trapped. "How deep do you think the cave floor is again?" Despite having thirty feet of climber's rope in his backpack, Gil fretted that it wouldn't be long enough.

"It'll reach," Keiko reassured him, practically reading his mind. She paused a moment to catch her breath as she had practically run back to find the rest of the research team, and had had to hike further up the hill to catch up with Moore and Derrick, the student who was hiking with him. To save time, she was trying to cut across and down, back to where she, Susan, and Jon had been hiking before they had fallen into a cave. Unfortunately, finding her bearings was harder than she thought and she was afraid they were going to overshoot the cave.

"Dr. Brown," called out Derrick as he slid down behind them, "Look down there to the left…is that an orange flag?"

"Yes!" she agreed eagerly, thankful she had thought to drop them along the trail as she had raced back for help. They were forced to head almost straight down to intercept the trail and she felt her knees shaking with the prolonged strain, but managed to keep her footing. "Hate going down hill," she muttered to herself.

Gil merely grunted beside her as he assumed the lead now that there was a trail to follow. It was nice to take long strides again now that they were going sideways and not down the hill. He spied another orange flag and then a darker area in the midst of the lighter rock beyond. "Looks like it up ahead," he pointed.

"That's too big," Keiko protested, glancing up at the sky to see if a cloud was casting a shadow, but the noon sky was still brilliant and blue. She grabbed Gil's arm in warning, "Slow down, Moore!" she exclaimed as realization hit. "More of the roof must have crumbled. We don't want to fall in too."

Gil stared at her a moment, then nodded in agreement with her. He may have only spent a few summers on research expeditions with her, but he trusted her judgment completely. "What do you suggest, Brown?"

"We'll stay back here. If only you go forward, maybe the roof will still hold one person's weight," she advised wisely.

Gil nodded, then shrugged off his back pack, and extracted a coil of rope. "Derrick, come here," he beckoned and then began tying one end of the rope around his waist. "Take this, wrap the end around you and pay out rope to me as I get close to the edge. Just want to play it safe," he smiled sheepishly.

"Sure, Professor," agreed the burly football player as he prepared to brace himself.

Gil took long steps out toward the edge, pausing between each one to make sure the surface was still steady. Reaching the edge of the hole in the cave's roof, he knelt down carefully and braced his hands on the edge to look over, "Jon! Susan!" he cried out immediately.

"Moore?" called out Keiko in a demanding, but worried voice. She was wishing she could see over the edge too.

"Jon's lying down, but across the way. I can see his head and shoulders in a shaft of sunlight. I think Susan's head is on his leg, but she's back under the shadow." Gil called over his shoulder, then he leaned back over the hole, "Jon! Susan!" he called again.

There was no response from the cave below him, but a whistle sounded back behind him. Pushing himself up, he dusted his hands off and stomped back towards the others with no thought to the care he had taken only moments ago. "Damn fools," he complained as he came up to Keiko. "He must have tried to stand on her shoulders to try to climb out of there and then the ceiling collapsed further. They look like they're out cold."

"But she said she had hurt her leg," protested Keiko. "How could she hold him up?"

At that moment, the rest of the students came swarming up the path. Mindy and Ashley had stayed at the original meeting place blowing their whistles until the rest of the scouting groups had returned and then they had all hiked towards the area Dr. Brown had indicated. "What happened to Susan's leg?" demanded Mindy anxiously.

"She said she hurt it when she first fell down," explained Dr. Brown turning toward the students. "Then Jon sort of dropped down to help her. He told me they needed a rope and to go get you," she turned back to Gil. "Moore, I don't think he'd try to get out of there until we got here. He knew help was on the way."

"Oh, come on, he's a teenager," Neal said snidely, "He'd want to show off of course."

"Jon wouldn't do anything that would hurt Susan," Mindy relied hotly defending the young man who had made an impression on her with his heroics the night before.

"They aren't exactly conscious and waiting for us," Gil said with a resigned sigh. He was sure this would mean the end of his plans, or at least a delay as they dealt with injured students. Maybe the other's parents would revoke their permission for the summer expedition, and then he wouldn't have enough help for the dig.

"We need to get down there and help them," Keiko said quietly, reaching out and squeezing Gil's arm gently.

He looked up at her sympathetic gaze and nodded her head to her wisdom once again. "Right. The shelf actually seems pretty sturdy on this side. I think if we spread out along the edge we can actually get a few people up there. Dr. Brown, Derrick, Dwain, come with me. The rest of you stay back here unless we call you. In fact, why don't you look through your packs for any first aid supplies you might have," he ordered them, steeling himself for the worst case scenario.

The four of them walked out toward the hole stopping a few feet shy of the edge. Gil untied the rope from around his waist and motioned for Dwain to step up. "Okay, let me show you how to belay this rope and we'll lower Derrick and then Dr. Brown down to check on them. Derrick, you help her and then help lift them up, while we pull."

Quickly, they got in position, and Derrick lay down on his stomach, allowing his legs to fall over the edge to drop down. Fortunately, the edge didn't crumble further and he landed lightly. He untied the rope and they pulled it up to repeat the process to lower Dr. Brown down as well. Meanwhile, Derrick moved to get out of the way and walked towards the pair laying on the ground across the shaft of light from him. "HOLY SHIT!" he exclaimed.

"What?" demanded Keiko dangling from the rope.

"There's blood everywhere!"

"How?"

"How should I ….impossible…" Derrick's voice tailed off in awe.

Dropping lightly to the ground, Keiko quickly untied herself from the rope and jogged the ten steps through the sunlight towards the darkened cavern that stretched back into the mountain. She knelt at Jon's side, feeling for his pulse, and sighed with relief as she felt it strong and steady. Looking up at Derrick still frozen in place, she began to get annoyed. "What are you looking at?" she snapped.

He simply pointed silently over into the darkness.

Slowly she stood up, peering into the dim light beyond the bright circle in which she stood. She took two hesitant steps forward into the darkness as her eyes adjusted, and gasped in astonishment.

A huge mountain lion lay obviously dead just beyond Susan's prone body.

Again her thoughts flew to the students at her feet, and this time she dropped to Susan's side and felt a sense of relief as she once again felt a pulse.

"What's going on?" Gil called down anxiously.

Keiko stepped back into the sunlight and turned her head up towards the rim of the hole. Dr. Moore stood brilliantly illuminated looking down at her. "You're not going to believe this, but it appears Jon killed a mountain lion.," she proclaimed. There were no qualms in her mind who had accomplished this feat.

"A what?" Gil called back in disbelief.

"I think you need to get down here," she called back.

Gil looked over at the muscled, football player standing next to him, "Think you can handle pulling us up?"

"Sure, Professor Moore," the young man grinned.

Gil tied on the rope and lowered himself down into the cave, automatically noting to himself that the roof nearest him was thick and close to its supporting wall. It was unlikely that it would crumble further on this side. He sighed with relief at the small break in fortune, that would make it easier to rescue the two students. He untied himself and turned to the cluster of people across from him. Jon was twisted on his side, his left hand tucked under his left knee, and his right hand resting on his left elbow. Susan's head rested on his left thigh and his right leg was thrown over her stretched out legs. It was a strangely intimate, yet uncomfortable looking position and he couldn't figure out how they'd gotten that way. No fall would have left them positioned like that.

Keiko looked up at him from her crouched position next to Susan equally perplexed, "She's covered in blood, her shirt is torn, but she's not injured."

"So the blood is all from a mountain lion?" Gil asked her with skepticism.

"Yep," replied Derrick replied from farther in the shadows, holding up a limp paw, "and a big one at that!"

Gil walked over to the burly football player and leaned over to study the animal. There was knife slash on its side, but the odd angle of its head exposing the gory cartilage of its neck explained the final cause of death, and most likely all the blood. He turned back to Brown examining the still unconscious students, "They don't have any injuries?" he asked almost in disbelief.

"Not a scratch," Keiko answered in amazement. She unclipped a canteen from her waist, untied her handkerchief and carefully poured some water on it so she could bathe Susan's face with the cool liquid. She was instantly rewarded by the girl stirring and raising a hand to sleepily bat away the cloth on her face. "Susan, wake up," she cajoled.

"Umm, …not …fault," Susan mumbled back.

Gil came over and helped slide Susan out between Jon's legs and helped prop up her head, while Keiko carefully poured a small amount of water in Susan's mouth. Susan swallowed and then coughed, blinking her eyes blearily at them. "Drink this," Keiko offered some more, as Susan looked around at them in confusion.

"Why,…why aren't I dead?" she whispered, taking a shuddering breath that caused her to cough again.

Gil patted her back while supporting her shoulders, "Take it slow. Just breathe. Okay?"

Susan nodded and took another sip of water from the bottle. She sat up with her own strength and finally took a deep breath without coughing. "Okay," she managed.

"Can you tell us what happened?" Keiko asked hopefully.

"I fell, and Jon came down to help me and then, OH GOD!" she suddenly exclaimed scrambling up and turning to look over at the fallen mountain lion. "I'm dead. I mean I should be. I'm sure I…" completely oblivious to the others around her, she grabbed at her blood encrusted shirt and pulled it up, twisting to try to look at her own side.

Derrick turned away in embarrassment to look at the lion again. Dr. Moore stared at her in surprise, while Dr. Brown reached out and pushed Susan's arms down forcing her to lower her shirt. "It's alright Susan. You're fine. Sit down. Take a breath," she tried to calm the girl down.

Hyperventilating, Susan turned panic stricken eyes to the calm Asian women, and slowly sunk down to the ground in a cross legged position. Dr. Brown continued to soothe her as she got her breathing under control.

Meanwhile, unnoticed by the others, Jon had been awakened by her loud exclamation. He threw his right arm out off of his left arm with such force that if anyone had been leaning over him, they would have been knocked down. He did a slight sit up, squinting from the sun in his eyes at the three people standing around Susan, and realizing it was the rescue party, lay back down with a sigh of relief. He inventoried his body and found no trace of pain anywhere. The last thing he remembered was tucking his left hand under his knee and leaning back to set his broken arm using his own body weight. He must have passed out after that. He lifted his left arm experimentally and squinted at his hand as he waved to himself without any pain. Clearly not broken now. His other self had to have healed him. 'Jack,' he called out experimentally with his mind. But there was no reply. Had he imagined everything?

"Try to tell us what happened step by step, Susan. How did Jon kill the mountain lion?" Gil asked curiously.

Susan took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "He was amazing, Professor," she started quietly. She looked up at Dr. Moore, and then over at Dr. Brown and Derrick, who had turned back to listen. "It came quietly out of the dark," she gestured at the back of the cave, "I think it was mostly curious. Jon started talking to it and walking away from me, making it turn to follow him. He was fearless, drawing it away, protecting me. It was almost funny, he scared it and it leapt up to escape, but the roof collapsed on this side too. Jon stabbed it and twirled away so fast that the lion couldn't catch him at first. I don't know, it all happened so fast. Then, Jon tripped over some rubble and the lion bit his arm. I had to help, so I grabbed a long rock and hit it on the head. Then it attacked," she took a shuddering breath, "…me. I felt its claws. Its foul breath. Jon cut its throat and I was covered in blood." Her voice trailed off.

"But you're not injured, Susan," Dr. Brown patted her reassuringly.

"I was dying," Susan protested, "He healed me!"

Jon had been lying quietly, listening to the story and remembering the details himself, when he realized he had to interrupt before Susan could go on any further. Forcing a cough to get attention, he pushed himself into a sitting position and called out, "What's going on?" in his most nonchalant voice.

"Jon!" exclaimed Dr. Moore guiltily, having temporarily forgotten he was lying there. Quickly, he stepped over and offered a hand to the teen, pulling him up to his feet. A huge sense of relief filled him knowing that neither of the students had been injured, and selfishly that his expedition would not get postponed.

Jon rolled his shoulders and leaned his head from side to side to get the crick out, "Got some water?" he asked stepping into the shade with the others. Dr. Brown handed him the canteen, and he poured some onto his hand to wash the blood off, wiping most of it off on his pants. Then he took a big gulp and wiped the trickle from the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand. "I'm starving," he announced and he pulled a flattened energy bar from one of the pockets of his vest. Ripping off the wrapping, he stuffed it with two bites into his mouth and chewed with a smile on his face as the others stared at him.

"You killed it," Susan said with awe, "and then you…"

"I got lucky," he interrupted her. A glimmer of apology shone in his eye, and then he looked away as he clenched his jaw and swallowed. He chuckled as he looked over at Derrick, "Susan fainted just as it sprang, but some loose rocks made its feet slip and when the lion fell, I was able to attack it from behind. Pure luck, end of story," he shrugged unpretentiously. "Let's get out of here. I want lunch," he added in a whiney voice.

"But…" Susan persisted.

"You fainted," he declared turning towards her, but not really making eye contact.

"Kid, you got guts," said Derrick with admiration, coming up to slap Jon on the back.

"Well, I guess we should get you guys out of here and back to camp so you can get cleaned up," began Gil, "Dwain's anchoring the other end of a rope that…"

"Wait," interrupted Keiko holding up a long dark rock towards Susan. "Is this what you used to hit the lion?" Susan nodded mutely. "Where did you pick it up" Dr. Brown asked in an uncharacteristically demanding manner.

Susan pushed herself up, standing next to the older woman and looked around the now open ceiling cave with new eyes. "Umm, I guess I was over there and then came over here to help. Before I passed out of course," she added with a touch of bitterness.

But Keiko was already striding off across the patch of sunlight towards the other side of the cave. "Brown?" asked Gil perplexed with her abrupt behavior.

"YES!" she exclaimed in return, "Moore you gotta see this!"

They all trooped over to where Dr. Keiko Brown stood triumphantly pointing at the pile of rubble.

"What?" asked Jon seeing nothing but rocks.

"Ignore the sandstone ceiling piffle, look at the long dark ones!" she continued with excitement.

Moore dropped to his knees and began lifting the lighter ones away revealing more of the dark ones below, "My god. Ribs," he said with awe. He looked up at Susan with a face full of joy, "You've just made the expedition a success. We've found a dinosaur!"

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Major Paul Davis tapped his fingers impatiently against his side under his folded arms. Outwardly he was the picture of calm, but he was greatly concerned about the General. The man had been unconscious for nearly an hour now. The paramedics from nearby Georgetown Hospital had arrived within minutes, but they had been examining him for over half an hour already, and questioning all those that had been present. He had enough first aid training to know the General wasn't having a heart attack, or any common ailment. The paramedics were still working through their list of emergency ailments, currently they were asking if he was diabetic. Davis knew that wasn't the problem. In fact, he probably knew more about the General's health and all his various battle injuries and alien ailments than anybody outside of the SGC.

Colonel Mike Wesley strode back into the conference room waving a file folder towards Davis who took it automatically. Unless the General gained consciousness soon, someone would have to act as his agent to admit him to a hospital. Davis scanned through the standard employee medical information page recognizing O'Neill's scrawl. For personal physician, he'd started to write a "J" but had turned it into a "C" for Carolyn Lam, the current Chief Medical Officer at the SGC.

He sighed, wishing he could call up the kind and brilliant Dr. Janet Frazier from the SGC of old, but her death a few years ago had left a void that could never be completely filled. Even though he'd recruited her replacement, O'Neill seemed to think so himself given his little slip of the pen.

He turned his attention back to the form and looked for the emergency contact person. Not surprisingly, it was retired Major General George Hammond. But unfortunately he lived out of town and wouldn't be able to assist with the immediate emergency. In someone else's handwriting was added Dr. Ian Butler with a local DC phone number. It was the obvious first place to start. But Davis was unsettled with the idea of calling someone he had never heard of before. He was surprised that neither Dr. Jackson's nor Col. Carter's names were on the list. Although given their unpredictable schedule due to missions, it would be logical to leave them off the list. In fact, he should call one of the General's old team members anyway. They had always sat in the infirmary watching over each other whenever one was injured. He didn't think things had changed so much between the legendary SG-1 members even with the promotion of O'Neill to the Pentagon.

He looked over at the unnaturally still form of the General. The man was usually such a bundle of nervous energy, constantly fiddling with pencils or tapping his fingers whenever they were in meetings. Davis stopped the nervous tapping of his own fingers as he came to a decision. He would stay by the General's side until he was recovered, just like his old team would have done.

The paramedics finally snapped closed their medical kit and moved the stretcher in position to transfer the General from the floor on to it. Davis watched as they lifted the prone man by the shoulders and feet onto the stretcher and then strapped him down securely. O'Neill would hate to wake up and find himself tied down. Davis' eyes narrowed as a worried thought crossed his mind. 'What if someone had poisoned the General? What if the ambulance crew were part of a plot to kidnap him? What if…I'm definitely going along for the ride on this one!' He looked over at Col Wesley standing next to him, "Sir, permission to accompany the General?"

Wesley looked over in surprise, "You can just call the emergency contact. Why do you want to go along?"

Davis looked back in determination, "I owe it to him, Sir. Besides, no one close to the General can get here fast enough.." Wesley nodded acquiescence. "And Sir? Do you think you could arrange for an armed guard to protect him in the hospital?"

"What for?" demanded Wesley.

Davis leaned closer to whisper, "It could be an attempt by Ba'al. Or maybe the rogue NID. Or even politically motivated to keep him from finding out something."

Wesley narrowed his eyes thoughtfully, "I hadn't considered that. I've only known him as the unsung hero frozen in an alien device after saving the entire planet, and as the final arbiter of the decisions we make in committee. It's hard to imagine he has enemies."

"Believe me, he does," answered Davis.

They followed the paramedics down the hall as they rolled the gurney holding the General towards the exit. Davis glanced over at Wesley whose lips were pursed in deep thought. He waited patiently for his fellow officer to make a decision.

Wesley finally nodded to himself, "Walter Reed."

"Sir?"

"Walter Reed Army Hospital. We'll be able to control security more easily, and if there is someone waiting at Georgetown, well then, they'll just be disappointed." He took long steps to catch up to the paramedics to order them to divert from the nearby Georgetown Hospital to the farther away Army Medical facility.

The group paused just inside the doors as Wesley talked to the paramedics. Sunlight streamed through the windows and shone on the unconscious man, making O'Neill's silver hair look like a halo. The worry lines were erased on his relaxed face and he looked younger, almost angelic. Davis shook his head at the incongruous image, knowing full well the ruthless warrior that the man could become. Taking advantage of the pause, he pulled out his cell phone and dialed General Hammond's number.

"Hammond, speaking," came the characteristic reply.

"It's Major Davis, sir. In Washington DC."

"Davis, what a pleasant surprise. How are things there?"

"Not so good. General O'Neill collapsed about an hour ago and is still unconscious. They're about to take him to Walter Reed Hospital. You were the emergency contact, so I thought you ought to know," reported Davis.

"What happened? What's wrong with him?" Hammond asked with alarm.

"I don't know, sir. He got agitated in a meeting and then collapsed. They'll have to do some tests in the hospital."

"Thank you, son. I'll be on the next plane there."

"That's not necessary, sir. I'm going to stay with him. I'll call you when I know something later."

"Nevertheless, I'll be there. Jack never does things by halves. I know. You keep on eye on him until I get there."

"Yes, sir. Goodbye, sir."

"Goodbye, Davis."

Davis closed his phone and slid it into the holder on his belt, moving closer to O'Neill as he did so. The paramedics were checking in with their supervisor to get permission to divert to a different hospital, and were standing off to one side. Something had changed while he'd been distracted on the phone. He realized that O'Neill had moved his head, turning his face into the sunlight like a phototropic sunflower seeking the radiant energy. Maybe the General was waking up and they wouldn't have to take the ambulance. He stepped up to the gurney and shook the General's shoulder, "Sir?" he called softly.

O'Neill frowned and rolled his shoulder weakly as if to shrug off his hand. Davis tried again, "General O'Neill?"

O'Neill turned his face halfway out of the sun and peeked blearily out of one eye at Davis before slamming it shut again. "Sir, are you all right?" Davis asked.

Licking his lips, O'Neill frowned but didn't open his eyes, "Leonis necoare," he muttered, "Ego factus dormio," and then he turned his face back into the sunshine and his face relaxed as he passed out again.

Davis's mouth fell open with astonishment at the strange language. Quickly he pulled out a small notepad he liked to keep in his shirt pocket and tried to write down what he heard before he forgot. "Leo-ness-neck-o-r-ray. Ego fact us door me-o," he repeated as he wrote. 'Hmm, ego? I know what that means, but the rest? I better call Dr. Jackson,' he thought to himself.

"Major Davis?" Wesley called out to him, "They've agreed to take you in the ambulance with him to Walter Reed Hospital. Can you handle everything?

"Yes, sir," replied Davis deciding not to mention O'Neill's moment of wakefulness. He'd see General Hammond soon enough and together they could find out what was wrong with O'Neill.


	6. Damage Control

Younger than a Dinosaur

Chapter Six: Damage Control

by Leanne Scott

Summary: What does mini Jack do over summer vacation?

Disclaimer: I don't own him, yada, yada. But all the rest of the characters were given to me by the writing muse fairy.

Apologies Dear Readers for the long delay. Following the hectic holidays, I began teaching a new subject, (you students think you have it bad…you don't have to make the tests!). Then when I went back to something I'd written, I hated it. Anyway, after changing character points of view and major revisions, I am content with my effort. I hope you enjoy it and I'll try to post the next chapter sooner than this offering. Thanks again for all your words of encouragement along the way! Dr. Scott

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"Goodnight everyone," Jon said abruptly as he pushed away from the table.

"Come on, man," cajoled his new pal Derrick, "we're celebrating your triumph over that mountain lion!"

"Yeah, too bad you can't get it mounted to display it," echoed the other football player, Dwain.

"Killing isn't something to be celebrated," Jon muttered, "The lion didn't deserve to die." 'Unlike some who deserve it,' he added silently to himself thinking of any number of goa'uld who deserved retribution.

"You were ever so brave," simpered Ashley. She had slowly inched her chair over the course of dinner away from her previous beau Derrick and towards Jon so that she could now easily reach up one of her soft hands and run it caressingly from his wrist to his elbow.

Jon jerked away from her touch like it was an electrical shock, and stepped behind his chair to put it between them. He felt like an old fashioned lion tamer except this female seemed far more dangerous than any feline. He'd rather be back having an honest fight to the death with the mountain lion.

Luckily, he was saved further embarrassment as Dr. Moore stood up from the other side of the table. "Right, it is after nine, and we're going to have a lot of work to do tomorrow. Let's all get some rest," he announced.

In the confusion of the dinner party breaking up, Jon was able to scoop up his things and melt away into the night. He walked away from the bright lights of the lanterns hung amongst the tents, and into the darkness of the hills. He stumbled over a rock as his eyes still hadn't adjusted and was forced to slow down the determined stride he'd taken to escape. The breeze cooled his flushed face, and he sighed with relief to be alone. Except for the bath he'd taken in the river and the short nap in the sun that he'd had that afternoon, people had surrounded him constantly. Despite having spent the last few years feeling lonely and sorry for himself, he was now forced to admit he liked being alone.

Keeping the trickling sound of the river on his right side to guide him, he marched confidently off into the dark and around a bend so that the lights of camp were a mere glow. There was a clearing where the river bent that he had noticed that afternoon. It would be a beautiful spot for star gazing. He spared a glance up and smiled at the carpet of stars like old friends. The crescent moon had set earlier leaving Jupiter as the brightest object in the sky, but it was almost hard to find amidst the Milky Way. Away from the light pollution of the city, it was like a whole different sky. Constellations that were easy to find because their bright stars were the only ones you could see, were now lost in the plethora of twinkling lights.

In contrast to the sleeping bag he dropped unceremoniously from one hand, he carefully set down the Pelican case he'd carried in the other. He unslung the pack he'd carried over one shoulder and leaned over it to unfasten a folding chair sack, but it didn't carry a chair. Instead, he withdrew a tripod and a small camp stool which he quickly set up. Setting the case on the stool, he snapped open the lid revealing the dark barrel of a telescope nestled in the foam. Despite the dark, his fingers nimbly assembled the scope on the tripod, then attached the sighting scope and eye pieces almost like the way he used to be able to assemble his gun blindfolded. Star gazing was one of the few activities of his old life that he had retained, and he quickly lost himself in the stars and his memories.

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"Come on, Susan, it's nothing to be that ashamed of, I mean, fainting would be a normal reaction," remarked Mindy.

"Except for you, of course. You probably think you could have killed that lion, don't you Ms. Athletic!" Susan snapped back sarcastically.

"Hey, what are you getting mad at me for? I'm on your side, remember?" Mindy replied holding her hands up to surrender.

Susan scowled back as she jerked her shoes off to change for bed. The three girls had gone into one of the tents for privacy and were finally discussing Susan's part in the day's heroics after all the boasting by the boys about Jon's feat.

"Who'd have thought a scrawny kid like Jon could have fought a lion and killed it without even getting a scratch? I mean he's kinda cute and all, but you'd never have suspected it. Hmmm, maybe I should reward him with the favors of a lady fair," giggled Ashley, "He definitely has potential. I bet he'd love learning a thing or two from an experienced woman like me."

"Oh, please, Ashley. Keep your claws off Jon. Stick with the dumb football player. He's more your type," Susan hissed.

"What? Some friend you are!" Ashley's voice rose shrilly.

"Stop this right now!" ordered Mindy as she stepped between the two glaring girls. "It's been a long, strange day. You're both friends. Don't say anything more that you'll regret in the morning. Okay?"

"Okay," Ashley shook her head so her hair swung around like some kind of fashion model.

"Susan, you should apologize," continued Mindy.

"Only if she promises to leave Jon alone," Susan persisted in her stubborn stance.

"Ashley?" Mindy asked, hoping to keep the peace between them. It was far too soon in a seven week campout to start a feud over a boyfriend.

"Fine. He's too young anyway," Ashley flipped her hand in the air, "but if he comes to me, who am I to deny him my charms?"

"Susan?" Mindy looked at her with expectantly raised eyebrows.

Susan looked back at her concerned friend and felt all the anger melting out of her, to be replaced with true remorse at her words. Tears filled her eyes as she meekly said, "I'm sorry," then she collapsed in tears onto one of the cots. "I was just so scared, and then I was laughing …and then hurt …and then, oh, I'm so tired and confused!"

"It's okay, honey," said Ashley patting her on the back with true consolation. "It has been a long, weird day. Let's get some sleep. It will all be better in the morning."

The two friends helped Susan change her clothes and led her out to where they had spread their bedrolls under the awning. She followed them wordlessly, her cheeks damp, but no fresh tears falling as she lay down, and obediently closed her eyes.

She listened to the other two girls zipping up their sleeping bags.

To the little rustlings as they tried to get comfortable.

To the sounds of everyone else in camp settling down for the night.

To the soft, regular breathing of her sleeping friends.

To the chirping sounds of the bugs in the night.

To the quiet rustle of the leaves in the trees around the camp.

To the distant trickling sound of the river. Any thing that could distract her from her thoughts about the events of the day.

She had nearly died that morning and he had saved her life. He had magically healed her. She knew it with the certainty of her being.

It had to be true.

Otherwise, she was losing her mind.

Hours of lying there gave her no rest. She had to talk to Jon. Now. In the middle of the night, when they could have some privacy. When the dark of night made dreams possible.

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Jon's keen hearing detected the scuffling sounds of her shoes first. He looked up from the eyepiece and stretched his back after crouching over for so long. He'd really lost track of time. He looked over his shoulder back towards the darkened camp and saw a small circle from a flashlight weaving its way toward him. His eyes had so fully adjusted to seeing with starlight, that the small glow was like a flare and he could easily make out Susan's bundled form. She was wearing her sleeping bag like a shawl around her shoulders, her heels slapping against the back of her tennis shoes as she hadn't taken the time to put them on properly, but had just slid her toes into them like you would with clogs.

The beam of light lifted from the ground and passed over him as she spotted him. Blinded, it was all he could do to stand up without knocking his equipment over and take one step towards her as she ran into his arms.

"Jon, I need to talk to you," she exclaimed.

"I figured as much," he replied, steadying her but then quickly dropping his arms in embarrassment.

Suddenly, face to face, her nerve failed her and she cast the flashlight on the tripod and telescope beside them. "What are you doing?" she asked lamely.

"Here," he grasped her hand and slid his long fingers down hers to switch the flashlight off, "let your eyes adjust a few minutes, and I'll show you."

He held her hand for a minute while her breathing slowed, unwilling to be the first to speak. Anything he might say would be a lie, he'd have to follow her lead.

"Is that Venus down low?" she finally asked.

"No, she won't be up until dawn as the Morning Star. That's Jupiter just about to set. Here, I'll show you the moons," he welcomed the innocent comment and turned to the telescope. He knelt to look through the spotting scope and swiveled the tripod so the telescope was pointing at the Western horizon. He stood to look through the side mounted eyepiece, adjusting the fine focus, and then gestured for her to take his place. "Look down through here," he instructed.

Susan stepped closer and looked curiously through the small opening. The planet was an unmistakable ball with faint lines on it, not just a point of light. "Oooo," she breathed.

"See the small lights lined up in a row? Those are three of the moons. You can't see Ganymede right now, its behind the planet," he explained matter of factly.

"Wow, you're really into this stuff."

"It's a hobby."

Susan straightened, standing close to Jon. His eyes glittered intensely down at her. She caught her breath and let it out in a rush with her words, "Tell me it's true," she implored.

Jon blinked in confusion. No matter how many lifetimes he might be given, he'd never understand the workings of a woman's mind. "Excuse me?"

"When I fell down, I got a big scrape on my leg. It's not there now. The lion bit your arm. I heard the bones crack as they broke. Yet," she grabbed his left hand and lifted his arm, "there's not a scratch now." She clasped her other hand on top of his so that she held it as if in prayer. "I remember the lion attacking me. Tell me you healed me, or, or…I think I'm going insane."

"I…I," he stuttered helplessly. Staring down at her earnest face, he couldn't lie, but he couldn't speak the truth either. Finally, he nodded yes and looked away with a sigh.

"Thank you," she squeezed his hands. "It's so amazing, I almost didn't believe it myself. How…"

He interrupted, "I can't explain it. Not sure I understand it myself."

She reached a hand up and placed her fingers on his mouth as they made eye contact again, "Shhh, I don't need to know how, just that it is true." She slid her hand over to cup his cheek and whispered, "Thank you for saving my life."

"You're welcome," he replied huskily, suddenly acutely aware how close they were standing. His right hand moved to her neck just below her ear and squeezed gently.

She let go of his hand, stepping closer and encircled his waist with a hug as she lay her cheek on his chest. She listened to his heart beat with her eyes closed, finally finding a sound that gave her rest.

Jon held her soft, warm body in a loose hug. As nice as it was, it just didn't feel right. She was a little too soft and a little too short. She wasn't the woman of his dreams. He cleared his throat and pulled back, keeping one hand on her shoulder, "Are you okay?"

Susan stepped back and looked up at his impassive face framed by the stars, realizing that the moment was gone. They could never be more than friends. She smiled though her eyes filled with tears, and nodded not trusting herself to speak.

Looking down at her, Jon cursed his fate. In her eyes, he was an eligible young man only a few years her junior. But he couldn't help feeling like a dirty old man himself, because in so many other ways he was old enough to be her father. Just when he was starting to adapt to his new life, he'd be reminded that he'd never really ever fit in with the X-generation. Suddenly uncomfortable with her staring at him, he coughed and shifted, nervously dropping his hand and looking away. "Look, I'd appreciate it if you won't tell anybody about…" He gestured awkwardly, and risked a glance at her to see how she was reacting. He was so bad at this touchy, feely stuff.

She smiled at his awkwardness. He reminded her of her little brother. She winked conspiratorially, "About what?"

He smiled back in relief, then looked back up at the sky and the new patterns of stars in the East that had risen since he had started star gazing, "It's getting late. I better walk you back to camp." He gestured toward camp and led the way into the dark.

Susan shivered and nodded, realizing she had dropped her sleeping bag when she had seen him and had run to him in desperation. She was feeling better now that she knew she hadn't imagined everything, but she was still curious about the uncommonly chivalrous young man walking beside her. He leaned down, shaking the dirt off the sleeping bag as he scooped it up and then wrapped it over her shoulders. "Do you need help packing up your telescope?" she offered.

"Nah, I'll come back," he turned to keep walking, but she reached out her hand to hold his arm.

"Can I stay out here with you?" she asked shyly.

"Umm, won't that look kind of bad?" Jon asked uncomfortably.

Susan laughed lightly, "You're so old fashioned! The only thing that would happen is that Ashley would be jealous." Even in the dark she could see him wince at the mention her name. "She'd probably leave you alone if we let her assume things."

"Really?" he asked hopefully. Then he shook his head, "No, that's not fair to you. I mean, you're a nice girl and all, but I already…I mean, well, I don't…umm," he flustered.

"Jon," she stopped him, "We can just be friends. I'm not saying we have to do anything."

He looked at her with relief that was almost comical.

"I'm exhausted and just want to sleep where I know I'm going to be safe," she explained.

He studied her quizzically. "I've just confirmed to you that you did indeed survive an attack by a mountain lion this morning and you want to sleep out here in the wilderness away from the safety of camp?"

"I'll feel safe if I'm with you," she admitted softly.

He shrugged in embarrassment and looked off in the dark thoughtfully. 'Right, I've got a new team to build and watch out for now,' he thought to himself. 'Besides, keeping Ashley from chasing me would be a good thing for the team too,' he rationalized.

"Right this way, m'lady," he turned out of her grasp and gestured with a low bow back towards his telescope. "I'm afraid the Presidential Suite is unavailable, but we have managed to reserve this fine room with a view," he joked.

Susan laughed happily, her spirits considerably brightened as she followed him back the few yards and let him help spread out her bag next to the telescope She zipped herself in, as he unrolled his own bag and spread it out next to hers Sitting cross legged on top of it, he began to unlace his high top hiking boots. "I feel safer here than I would anywhere else on Earth," she said earnestly. He looked down at her with a smile.

Looking up at his face silhouetted against the Milky Way, she gave a little gasp. Ordinarily, she would scoff at such an idea, but after everything that had happened today extraordinary thoughts seemed appropriate. She pushed herself up to lean on her elbow, "My god! Are you from outer space?" she asked.

He stared down at her for a moment and then burst into to laughter. If she really knew the truth she would never feel safe again, so the only thing to do was to put on his best high school kid act. Catching his breath he gave her one of his biggest smiles, "No, I'm from Minnesota. I just work in space," he joked, going for as absurd an answer as he could think of.

"I'm sorry. What a stupid thing to say," she groaned and buried her face in her hand. Slowly, giggles bubbled up from behind her hand until they seemed to launch it out to hit him on the shin. "You got the line wrong. It's 'I'm from Iowa. I just work in outer space.'"

"Umm, yeah," he replied a little confused.

"Which Star Trek movie was that from again?" she asked still giggling.

Jon racked his brain for the memories of team nights gone by, recalling the years of science fiction movies Teal'c had tortured him with. "Oh! It was the one with the whales," he started laughing harder, realizing he wasn't as clever as he thought he was.

He tucked his long legs into the sleeping bag and settled down on his own elbow to look her in the eyes as the chuckles died down, "We good?"

She nodded and tucked her hands under cheek as she settled back under the covers, "Goodnight Jon," she sighed.

"Goodnight," he whispered and watched her trusting eyes close. Within minutes she was sound asleep, finally finding the rest both her body and soul had needed.

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Major General George Hammond, retired, found himself once again in uniform. Granted it was a little rumpled from traveling all night long, but he found it helped smooth the way when one was in a hurry. People responded with so much more alacrity when they saw all the stars. Standing at the nurse's desk in the foyer of the military hospital, he was using its power to get him admitted to the wards before visiting hours.

"I understand that you've been traveling, sir," she was explaining patiently, "but the patients need their rest."

"I don't intend to disturb him. I simply need to sit nearby. It's a tradition with our unit. Someone always sits by the beside so that you never wake up alone." He tried to give her a charming smile, but was afraid that his exhaustion was turning it into a grimace.

She looked at the grandfatherly man before her and sighed. It was almost the end of her shift, why did this always happen to her. It would be smooth sailing into the 7 AM shift change if he would just go away. "Promise to be quiet?" she demanded.

"Like a mouse," he reassured her.

"Okay, let's see, O'Neill is in room 327. Elevators on your left, sir."

"Thank you very much," he called as he hurried away before she could change her mind.

Stepping out of the elevators, he was immediately spotted by the duty nurse who rose to her feet and waited expectantly for him to walk up to her desk. "Visiting hours begin at 9:00 AM," she stated, looking like she dared him to contradict her.

'Not again,' Hammond thought to himself. He decided on trying the passive aggressive approach. "Yes, ma'am," he gave her what he hoped was a friendly grin, "except for three star generals," he added.

She sized him up and then nodded briskly, "Who are you checking up on?"

"O'Neill in room 327," he responded trying to be helpful.

"The patient with the guard," she said looking curiously at him, "He must be a pretty important man. His doctor is Ian Butler, you know."

"I guess not many have the same personal physician as the President of the United States," he smirked back. "Has Ian been in yet?" Hammond asked casually deciding to impress her with all his connections.

She stood a little straighter realizing the man with all the stars on his jacket was the real deal and she needed to show proper respect. "He should be in soon. He came by last night and picked up the test results, and he indicated that he would be back after he had a chance to look at the patient's medical history."

Hammond winced imagining Dr. Butler looking through the stack of reports that he knew were in O'Neill's file.

She misunderstood his look and thought he was offended that the doctor wasn't already there. "It was probably hard to get access to files in the middle of the night," she offered, loyally trying to cover for the doctor.

Hammond smiled and waved a hand at her, "It's okay. I understand. Has General O'Neill woken up yet?"

"No, sir, as far as I know, he's been unconscious since he was brought in yesterday afternoon."

"Be thankful for small favors," he said cryptically with a grin. "Down that hall?" he asked pointing in a direction that the room numbers got larger. She nodded mutely. "Don't worry, I'll just sit with him and be as quiet as a mouse," he reassured her and strode off quickly.

He followed the signs to the left and wound around the hallway to the designated room where a bored looking airman stood at ease next to the door. The young man's eyes bulged at the stars on his jacket and he snapped to attention with a rush of adrenalin. "Good morning, sir. I'm sorry, sir, but I'll have to see your identification, sir," he demanded with a sidelong glance to see how his speech was received.

Hammond smiled with gratitude, "Glad to see you're on duty, son." He pulled out his wallet and showed his identification badge to the airman, who nodded with relief. "Has anyone tried to see the patient," asked Hammond curiously.

"Other than the nurses? No, sir," the man reported.

"As you were," Hammond ordered with a nod. He pushed the door open quietly, immediately hearing the quiet bleeping of monitoring machinery. A cabinet light left on low to aid the nurses on their rounds during the night lit O'Neill's profile on the pillow. He walked quietly into the room, his eyes adjusting to the dim light as he approached the bed.

A snort startled him and he realized there was another person in the room. He peered more closely into the corner and realized Major Davis was folded into a chair, asleep with his chin on his chest. Smiling with pride at the man's devotion, he rounded the bed to the straight chair pulled next to it and sat down heavily with his eyes on the patient. "What have you gotten into now, Jack?" he muttered softly.

Hammond stared down at O'Neill's face. The hair had grayed, and the lines deepened, but time had been kind. More so than it had been to himself, he mused as he rubbed his own bald head. Memories of all the other times he had looked down on O'Neill as he recovered from battle injuries, alien viruses, and withdrawal from Ba'al's sarcophagus flashed through Hammond's mind. The man had survived on sheer will alone on so many occasions. After all the trauma, how could he simply collapse with no apparent cause?

"General?" a voice interrupted Hammond's thoughts. "Sir, I didn't expect to see you until this afternoon."

Hammond looked over at Major Davis pushing himself out of the chair to stand at attention., "At ease, son. I'm retired remember?" He stood up and carried his own chair over to the big chair Davis had been sleeping in. "Let's talk over here so we don't disturb him," he inclined his head toward O'Neill. He settled down and Davis sank gratefully back down in the chair rolling his head to loosen his sore neck. "I'm surprised to see you still here, Major." Hammond continued.

"Well, the Team would never have left him alone," Davis offered with a shrug.

Hammond could hear the capital T in team and knew exactly to what Davis was referring. "They're more like family to each other," Hammond agreed with a smile. "And I'm sure Jack would be glad you had his back covered. I'm glad you were there and called me," he patted Davis on the shoulder. "So, Major, what exactly happened? What have the doctors told you?" Hammond turned more formal and looked like he was ready for a briefing.

Davis scowled and shook his head slightly, "Believe me, sir, I've thought about this a lot already, and I can't think of any explanation. We were having a meeting at the Pentagon. General O'Neill seemed a little distracted, but really not any worse than usual. Oh, I don't mean to be disrespectful, uhh, I mean he…"

Hammond chuckled, "I understand. Jack never was the most attentive person in a meeting. Go on."

"Well, he suddenly stood up and slapped his leg as if grabbing a gun and he was looking right past us all like there was some terrible creature about to attack. I thought for a moment it was Retoo, but he seemed to snap back and looked quite embarrassed. I helped him back into his chair and took his pulse. I can't explain it, sir, it was racing like he was in battle. Suddenly, he shouted 'Kree' and knocked me down as he flung out his arms and he's been unconscious ever since. Do you think he was having flashbacks, sir?"

"I hope not. It would ruin his career. Although, if anyone else had experienced all that he's been through, then we should expect that possibility. But not Jack. He has too strong of a personality, and he cleared all his psyche evaluations. Even if that is the case, why now? What event would have precipitated such a flashback?"

Davis nodded thoughtfully back, "I thought the same thing. Do you think someone could have drugged him somehow to induce hallucinations?"

"Well, you tell me. Did he eat or drink anything in the meeting? Was there anyone there with a grudge against him? Who else was in the meeting with you? "

"I had lunch with the General, sir. He seemed perfectly normal. We talked about The Simpsons, of course. Then we went together to the meeting with Colonel Wesley and the rest of the Homeworld Security team. I'd trust any of those men with my life, sir," Davis replied earnestly.

Hammond nodded thoughtfully, "And he did too. O'Neill handpicked each of you to be on his team."

"He did, sir?" Davis was amazed. "I didn't know that."

Hammond's reply was interrupted by the door opening and the duty nurse he had spoken to earlier bustling into the room. She nodded to them and efficiently set to taking notes of the patient's vital signs on the clip board at the end of his bed. "Did you notice any change?" she asked politely looking over at Davis.

He shook his head as the door opened again and a distinguished looking man with a neat mustache and wearing short doctor's coat peered in. "Nurse, can you tell Him," he jerked a thumb over his shoulder, "that I can come in?"

"Ian," Hammond called out, rising from his chair and extending his hand. As they shook hands he reassured the guard, "Airman, this is Dr. Butler. He definitely has permission to enter."

"Yes, sir," replied the airman and he closed the door.

"This is Major Davis. Dr. Butler," Hammond made introductions as the other two men shook hands.

Dr. Butler turned to the bed and looked curiously down at the man seeming to be sleeping peacefully. "So this is the famous O'Neill," he exclaimed.

"Haven't you met before?" asked Hammond in surprise.

"Well, we've spoken on the phone and he has had several appointments for exams, but he's always had to reschedule."

"I'm not surprised at that," Hammond replied drolly, "I had to order him for physicals regularly. So what have the tests determined? What's wrong with him? And when can we expect him to regain consciousness?"

Dr. Butler picked up the clip board and ran his finger down the columns of numbers, "Nurse, are these the latest vitals?" he asked pointing at the bottom row.

"Yes, Doctor," she replied from the window where she had moved out of the way and was currently opening the blinds to the early morning sun that shone butter yellow into the room.

"Thank you. You may go," he replied politely, but dismissively.

She nodded and quickly left pulling the door closed again.

"So?" Hammond asked impatiently.

"He's suffering from all the classic symptoms of exhaustion coupled with malnutrition. His blood glucose and triglycerides are all off, as well as his electrolyte levels. Its like he's just finished running a marathon, and we all know he was just in meetings at the Pentagon. It's possible he's having a nervous breakdown and just not caring for himself properly," announced the doctor.

"What?" exploded Major Davis, "That's impossible! You're talking about General O'Neill here. Besides, I had lunch with him myself."

"Well perhaps he is purging after eating. Yes, bulimia would fit some of the symptoms," replied Butler rather thoughtfully.

"No, Ian. I agree with Davis. O'Neill would never allow himself to get in such shape."

"Logical behavior is one of the first things to go when one has a breakdown. Quite frankly, George, after what I've been reading tonight I can't believe this man is alive at all. It's a wonder he hasn't had a breakdown sooner."

"No," asserted Hammond again. "Doctor, did you do any toxicology tests? It's more likely he's been drugged."

Dr. Butler began to bristle as the General faced off with him. "Of course we did," he snapped. "I ordered a full battery of blood tests. We've done X-rays, CAT scans and heart monitoring. He's in remarkable shape for a man of his age, but there's no denying his blood work is off. He is exhausted and he needs to be ordered to rest," he concluded.

Hammond took several breaths obviously counting to ten, and resumed more calmly, "So what measures are you taking to help his recovery?"

Butler gestured to the IV line dripping into O'Neill's arm, "We've been giving him glucose saline supplemented with vitamins and minerals to get his levels back to normal. Actually, he should have woken up by now."

They all looked down at the man in the bed illuminated with the morning sun like a spotlight on his face. "Hey, he turned his head," Davis observed.

"Well, perhaps the treatment is working after all," replied the doctor smugly. "I need to check in with the staff, before I leave. I'll check back on him later this afternoon, but I think my orders will simply be bed rest and a healthy diet. General Hammond, Major Davis," he nodded formally at them both and let himself out of the room.

"Sir, he's wrong," began Davis.

"He's one of the best doctors around and has full clearance to know O'Neill's medical history. I have to admit the possibility that he's right," sighed Hammond.

"No. I forgot to tell you something. I'm sorry, sir. I had just woken up and forgot about it until now." Hammond looked up with hope and curiosity. "When we were leaving the Pentagon, Colonel Wesley made the ambulance drivers change destinations. While he was talking to them, I was standing by the General and the sunshine seemed to revive him somewhat. Although, he muttered complete gibberish I tried to write down what I heard." Davis pulled his little notepad from his shirt pocket. "Leo-ness-neck-o-r-ray. Ego fact us door me-o," he recited awkwardly.

"Ego factus…" murmured Hammond as he looked over at the writing. That sounds Latin, or perhaps Ancient." He looked thoughtfully over at Davis, "This puts a whole new spin on things. We need Dr. Jackson here. If Jack wakes up spouting more of this, Daniel will be the only one that will be able to talk to him."

TBC


	7. Waking Up Is So Hard To Do

Younger than a Dinosaur

Chapter Seven: Waking Up Is So Hard To Do

by Leanne Scott

Summary: What does mini Jack do over summer vacation?

Disclaimer: I don't own him or the other Stargate characters, yada, yada. But all the rest of the characters were given to me by the writing muse fairy.

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George Hammond squirmed in the chair trying to find a more comfortable way to rest his head. How Davis had actually slept in the thing was beyond him. He'd sent the younger man home a few hours ago to shower and change after his long vigil the day before. Davis was reluctant to go until Hammond had promised that he would leave and check in to a hotel that night and let Davis continue the watch if needed. Hammond flicked his eyes open to glance at the unconscious figure lying in the hospital bed wondering when O'Neill would wake up.

The sound of the opening door captured his attention and he lifted his head to look at the nurse pushing the door open with her shoulder as she edged in holding a tray of food. "It's lunch time, sir," she smiled. "I took the liberty of picking up a tray for you. He's not going to eat it," she nodded her head toward the bed, "but meals are part of the daily room charge."

Hammond sat up and smiled back gratefully. He hadn't eaten anything since the night before and hadn't realized it because of all his worrying. She set the tray down on the adjustable table and rolled it over to his chair as he said, "Thank you."

"No need to get up. I'm just going to check his vitals," and she bustled over to the bed throwing a shadow on it . She pulled an otic thermometer from her pocket and deftly inserted it into O'Neill's ear. Within a moment, a small beep announced the reading taken and she stepped back to record the value on his chart.

Hammond had turned his attention to the tray in front of him and didn't notice O'Neill turning his head away. Neither did the nurse who had turned sideways to check the flow rate on the IV pump.

"The baked fish is actually quite good," Hammond remarked, gesturing with his fork.

The nurse smiled over at him, while her hands secured the blood pressure cuff with the ease of years of experience. She pushed the button to start the air pump, still without looking at her patient. Suddenly, the rate of the heart monitor sped up and the sound finally cued her in. "He might be waking up," she announced as she leaned over the bed.

"Wait!" Hammond yelled in surprise. "Don't touch…."

The pressure from the cuff on his arm peaked just as she touched his shoulder and O'Neill went ballistic. He punched the nurse with his free arm sending her flying backwards into the IV pole. As it fell down under her weight, the IV line was yanked out of his hand and with a cry of pain, O'Neill rolled the other way out of the bed taking the blood pressure machine with him and it fell with a crash on top of him.

Hammond pushed up on the table in front of him to stand up, but in his haste put too much force on it. It rolled towards the door just as the airman on guard threw the door open. The table got knocked sideways sending the tray of food flying with another loud crash into the wall. The guard drew his gun and fell into a crouch aiming at the bed where O'Neill now rose with fists clenched and fire in his eyes, ready to throw himself into a fight, "Damn Snakeheads!" he growled.

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Awareness had come slowly to Jack.

It was smell first. The smell of hot food. Lemony and buttery. Just how he liked his fish.

He drifted for a moment lost in a memory of one of his fishing trips. Everything was calm and peaceful. The quiet murmur of voices and rhythmic sounds of monitoring machines blended into his memory of waves slapping on the side of his boat.

Suddenly it got dark. The warm light of the sun was gone. Only with its absence was he aware that it had been present, and he felt the loss keenly. He turned his head feebly to look for the light but instead felt something touch his head.

A beep as loud as a church bell went off in his ear and startled him further into consciousness. Trying to make sense of the smells and sounds, Jack fluttered open his eyelids only to have the sudden reappearance of the light practically blind him. His heart raced as he realized someone was handling his arm and as he felt the bindings being tightened on him, he struck out to avoid being held prisoner again.

Acting purely on instinct, he rolled away from the sharp pain in his hand and felt himself falling. Hitting the floor knocked the breath out of him, and he pushed up with one hand trying to breathe, just as something heavy fell on his back and knocked him back down again.

Loud crashing sounds completed his rise into consciousness and he rose full of anger and ready to do battle. "Damn Snakeheads!" he growled.

"General O'Neill!" a voice reprimanded him.

Jack squinted his eyes at the scene in front of him, breathing heavily. He knew that voice. A figure silhouetted by the window took a step towards him.

"Jack," the voice said more soothingly. "You're with friends."

Jack grimaced and shook his head trying to clear out all the cobwebs. He blinked a few times trying to adjust his vision, "George?" he asked slowly.

The figure took another step forward and resolved itself into the rotund figure of his former commanding officer. "Calm down, son. You're safe with friends," he repeated.

Jack straightened up and relaxed his hands, looking around at the chaos in the hospital room and the three pairs of eyes staring at him. "What's going on?" he asked in confusion.

Hammond nodded at the airman, who relaxed from his defensive crouch and holstered his service revolver. The young man stepped over to the nurse and offered a hand to help pull her to a standing position. She gingerly touched the side of her face where a bruise was already forming on her jaw. "She needs some ice, sir," he announced.

"I'm sorry. I was afraid he'd do something like this, but I didn't realize he was waking up until it was too late," apologized Hammond. He touched the nurse's arm and looked sincerely remorseful.

"He's done this before?" she asked incredulously gesturing at the mess.

"It's been awhile. I'm afraid his old team mates are better at helping him wake up than I am," admitted Hammond.

"Oh, my God! What happened?" exclaimed another nurse sticking her head in the door. She was followed by yet another and the small room was soon full of people. They all turned their eyes back to Jack who fell slowly onto the bed as the adrenalin left him.

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An hour later order was restored to the room and two new lunch trays had been delivered. O'Neill and Hammond sat in companionable silence as they ate. Jack set his fork down with a clatter and drained the last of his juice with a flourish. He eyed the other tray hungrily. Hammond was only half finished and hadn't even touched his roll. "You going to eat that?" he asked.

Hammond looked back at him with an amused expression. "You must be hungry the way you inhaled your lunch," he remarked.

"Starving," he whined more like a small boy than a grown man.

Hammond stood up and carried the plate holding the roll and a pat of butter over to the bed. "Only if you answer some questions," he bribed.

Jack sighed and nodded. He knew this moment was coming eventually, he might as well get it over with.

Hammond got that expectant look that Jack remembered from mission debriefings of the past. The only problem was, Jack didn't know what to say. What little he remembered was hazy and a bit far fetched even for him to believe. He looked back at Hammond equally expectantly.

Hammond sighed, "Look, Jack, the doctor says you're suffering from severe exhaustion. Is working here in Washington too stressful for you?"

"No, sir. This is nothing to the SGC, you know that," Jack hedged and grabbed the roll and began buttering just to have something to do with his hands.

"Dr. Jackson or Col. Carter I'd believe it, but not you."

"Excuse me, sir." Jack took a big bite out of the roll.

"I could always count on you to drag them off to the commissary or out of the base for relaxation. Why aren't you taking care of yourself now?" demanded Hammond.

Jack blinked back in surprise, choking on the roll, "What?"

"Your blood levels were all out of the normal ranges like you had been starving yourself. You just said it yourself."

"That's just an expression," Jack retorted defensively, setting the roll down purposefully. "I had breakfast. I had lunch with Major Davis. Ask him. He'll corroborate the facts."

"Speaking of Major Davis, he stayed by your side from the Pentagon to here and all night until I finally sent him home this morning," Hammond said proudly.

"He's a good man," Jack agreed.

"And he said you muttered something…"

The door opened and Hammond stopped speaking to glance at the nurse walking in. Jack began to feel uncomfortable as he wondered just what Davis heard him say. He hoped it wasn't something about Sam, umm, Col. Carter, he reprimanded himself.

"Sorry to interrupt, sirs. I need to collect the trays now," the nurse said.

Jack looked up and realized by the bruise on her jaw that it was the woman he had hit earlier. "Nurse, ahh," he looked at her name tag, "Nurse Jackie. I didn't know where I was and I didn't mean to, that is, I'm sorry for over reacting and hurting you," and he gave her one of his most charming smiles.

She looked down at what she had been referring to the crazy patient and felt herself falling into the warm pools of his brown eyes. Suddenly she realized what a remarkably handsome man he was. She blushed and cleared her throat, "It's not your fault. You were just waking up. But you," she rounded on Hammond and shook her finger, "You should have warned us that he had been a POW."

"How do you know that?" he asked suspiciously. O'Neill's medical records were not to be that readily available.

"Sir, I've been working here for over seven years now. I've had to deal with a lot of young men with problems far greater than physical injuries. I know an escape reflex when I see one. And you," she smirked back at O'Neill, "can accelerate from 0 to 60 faster than anyone I've ever seen."

Jack smiled self-consciously back at her. As she reached out to pick up the trays, he quickly snatched back the roll that he had set down. He was still hungry after all.

"We've notified Dr. Butler that you've woken up. He should be here shortly to examine you," she announced and she left with the trays.

"Dr. Butler?" Jack asked raising an eyebrow.

"Your personal physician since you moved here," Hammond elaborated.

"Oh, him! I haven't met him yet," mused Jack.

"That's what he said when he dropped by this morning. The doctor thinks you're having a nervous breakdown," Hammond added to get a rise out of Jack.

"WHAT!" yelled Jack dropping the roll on the table again.

"Calm down, Jack. I don't think that's true, but I need to know what's going on."

Jack scowled back, "George, you'd make a good fisherman. You know how to bait the hook and reel them in."

"I'm waiting, Jack."

"Okay, but you're not going to believe me. When I passed out at the Pentagon, I had to go help fight a mountain lion." He looked at Hammond's perplexed face. "Okay, wait. That didn't come out right. Obviously, I didn't actually go there physically. I was there more at an energy level and helped out. That's why I was so worn out."

Hammond looked thoughtful and pulled out a scrap of note paper from his shirt pocket. He handed it to Jack asking, "It's Ancient, isn't it?"

Jack glanced down at the phonetic spelling and closed his eyes as he leaned his head back in thought, "Leonis necoare," he muttered, "Ego factus dormio." The words rolled out of his mouth smoothly, not awkwardly the way Davis had read them.

"Translation?" demanded Hammond impatiently.

"The lion is slain. I must now sleep," Jack looked back at Hammond with a touch of fear in his eyes. "I kind of didn't turn back to normal that last time the Asgard defrosted me," he admitted. "And I'm not the only one."

Hammond looked confused.

"Mini-me is turning Ancient too," Jack looked apologetic. "Thor warned me and Carter it might happen, but the chances seemed so remote I didn't think it was worth mentioning at the time."

"How do you know your clone is changing? I thought Jonathan was still in school back in Colorado," Hammond tried to understand what Jack was saying.

"Well, not at school, obviously, if he's having to fight mountain lions," Jack replied rather sarcastically. "I don't understand it all, sir. But I have a psychic connection with my other self."

"Can you talk to him right now?" asked Hammond in amazement.

"No, I think it was the adrenalin that helped form the link," mused Jack.

"This is too fantastic, Jack" Hammond said shaking his head.

"I told you, you wouldn't believe me," sighed Jack.

"No, son, I believe you," Hammond said looking up and seriously into his eyes, "but I might be the only one. I know all the crazy things SG-1 has been through over the years. This isn't even as weird as the time you all changed bodies. But it's going to be hard to come up with a good cover story. And what happens if it happens again?"

"Sir?" asked Jack worried at the tone in his voice.

"We can't afford to have you distracted or your decision making skills compromised at critical times," warned Hammond.

"No, sir," agreed O'Neill, "but now I know what's happening. I think I can control it better. I won't get sucked into the other reality as far."

"You think?"

"I'm sure," Jack promised. But would he be able to keep it?

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TBC…Sorry not so long, but I think this the best place to stop before going back to young Jon on his dig….Thanks again for your reviews and encouragement!


	8. Jumping to Conclusions

Younger than a Dinosaur

Chapter Eight: Jumping to Conclusions

by Leanne Scott

Summary: What does mini Jack do over summer vacation?

Disclaimer: I don't own him or the other Stargate characters, yada, yada. But all the rest of the characters were given to me by the writing muse fairy.

Note: As much as I admire Michael Welch, the young actor who portrayed mini Jack in the series. I imagine my character Jon to have matured and look like a young Richard Dean Anderson.

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Dr. Keiko Brown rocked back on her heels and brushed her hair back out of her eyes. She had been kneeling over the specimen for the last twenty minutes painstakingly chiseling along one side hoping to free it from the surrounding matrix rock soon. A shout caught her attention and she lifted her eyes to the edge of cave's ceiling where most of the archeology team was building a primitive crane. It hadn't even been a week since they had made the find after rescuing the two students who had fallen down when the roof first caved in. She was amazed at how quickly things had progressed, and as she returned to her work she muttered softly to herself as she recounted the events in her mind.

"Sunday," Dr. Gil Moore, her colleague, had arrived with the bus load of students and supplies.

"Monday," she hit the rock in rhythm with her thoughts. They rescued Susan and Jon out of this very cave.

"Tuesday," She and the girls had wrapped the exposed fossils in gauze and plaster of Paris, while Gil and Neal had collected rock samples. Jon had insisted in burying the mountain lion he had slain in self defense, and had organized the rest of the guys into rope belayers to lift the heavy carcass up out of the cave.

"Wednesday," She had been left in charge of cleaning the gore out of the cave, while Gil had driven to town to mail the samples for radiometric dating and mineral analysis, and buy a sturdy step ladder to use in accessing the cave floor. Jon had insisted on accompanying him. "Hmmph," she grunted as she hit the rock with the memory. Gil and Jon had come back thick as thieves with a van full of timber and hardware and a vague plan to build a crane. She had tried talking to Gil that night but he had annoyingly raved about how poised Jon had been in reporting the lion incident to the park rangers, how clever he had been in realizing the need and then designing the crane, and how decisive he'd been at the lumber store.

"Thursday," Gil, Jon, Robert and Stan had spent the day in camp drawing up plans, cutting wood, and partially assembling the legs of a large tripod. She on the other hand had been in charge of bringing supplies and several gallons of water up the hill to the cave. It was a boring but necessary job and she wouldn't have felt so resentful if she hadn't had to listen to her graduate student Neal complain the whole day. He was completely against the investigation of the cave. As far as she could tell he had no good reason against it except he hadn't found it himself.

"Friday," All the students except Neal were doing early morning calisthenics taught by Jon, of course. Then after one trip up the hill with tools, Jon had come back a different way that turned out to be a lot less steep and a lot easier to get to camp than the way they had tramped for the last three days. All the other students had glared at her for having made them hike up the hard way the day before. Gil had just laughed it off and had clapped Jon on the shoulder with pride. While she had felt an irrational stab of jealousy.

"To-day," she said emphasizing the syllables with two hard strikes of her rock hammer. All of the men, even Neal, had joined together in assembling the crane. While the women had all been delegated to continue work on the specimen. All the easy fossils had been removed and they had begun the patient extraction process of the remaining skeleton. The three girls had caught on quickly and sat in a cluster, chatting while they used dental picks and paint brushes to finish cleaning a large shoulder bone they had uncovered yesterday. Keiko didn't feel comfortable barging into their conversation, so she had scooted away to work on something that was barely showing. As she tapped around the area, slowly revealing more of the darker colored fossil, she wondered at her own grumpiness. This was a great find but she wasn't happy. Last year she remembered spending days doing just this, but somehow it went faster than, "To-day."

If she was honest with herself it was because Gil had not been here to talk with. The last couple of years they had spent at least the first week hiking all around. They talked about their jobs, their students, their extended families and all those topics that old friends would catch up on with each other. This year they had quite literally fallen into a significant specimen the first day, and she missed the camaraderie. She moved closer to the girls intending to get to know them better but her movement was arrested by their topic of conversation and she couldn't help but eavesdrop,.

"You were the first one to do it with him. Didn't he name it then?" demanded Mindy.

Susan shrugged, "Jon doesn't talk much. You know that."

"The names of the positions all sound so foreign," remarked Ashley.

"He's so flexible. It's hard to follow him in and out of position smoothly," agreed Susan. "Mindy, how does he compare to your previous masters?"

"Hmmm," Mindy thoughtfully blew the dust off the rock in front of her, "he's clearly the youngest I've ever studied under."

"Oh, yeah, I'd study a few other things Under him too," Ashley giggled.

"Ashley!" admonished Susan.

"Girls!" Dr. Brown exclaimed simultaneously. They all looked over at her with startled faces, but not the least bit guilty. She suddenly felt very old-fashioned and embarrassed. "Umm, well, it's really not right for all of you to have a relationship with the same man at the same time, especially one so young." She bit her lip and tried to look determined even as she felt herself withering under their surprised gaze. Then was equally surprised as they burst into gales of laughter.

"Oh, no, Dr. Brown," chuckled Susan, "we're not talking about Jon like THAT!"

"He's been teaching us a new kind of martial arts in the morning," explained Mindy.

"None of us are having a sexual relationship with Jon," Susan assured her.

"Oh, well, umm, I'm sorry," stuttered Keiko in embarrassment. She knew that they had been doing exercises all together the last few mornings. Why had she jumped to conclusions?

Mindy waved her hand in dismissal, "I guess out of context our conversation would sound a bit risqué. Jon knows this different kind of Tai chi that we saw him practicing the first morning here. Didn't we Susan?" Susan nodded. "Then the next morning after you fell down here and," Mindy paused and looked at her friend who had turned rather pale. She had started to say 'and killed the lion' but changed her mind since Susan had been very reluctant to discuss the incident. "Umm, well, the next morning when I woke up, Susan was already outside with Jon and learning the beginning movements. I joined them and then Ashley, Robert and Stan joined in the next morning, and then everyone else after that. I don't know, it's a good stretching workout to warm you up for the day. Speaking of stretching…"she stood and reached upwards with her hands in the air.

"Good idea," said Keiko setting down her rock hammer and standing as well. "Let's all take a break." The girls all stood and did little stretches to work the kinks out of their muscles from sitting in one place for so long. "Actually, I've been so fascinated with this fossil, I haven't really looked around the cave," Keiko admitted. "Let's walk around." She began walking along the wall running her hand lightly along the rock using it as a guide in the dim light towards the back of the cave

"So Susan, I thought you and Jon were supposed to be an item," teased Ashley as they followed.

"Just drop it already, Ashley," Susan hissed in exasperation.

"What?" she protested.

"He's not your type, so leave him alone."

"Well, he doesn't seem all that interested in you either," Ashley snapped.

"He basically told me he already has someone back home," sighed Susan.

"Really? That's too bad," Mindy finally chimed in patting her friend on the arm. "Did he say anything about her?"

"No, he clearly felt uncomfortable talking about it. I dropped the subject," admitted Susan.

"Wonder what she's like," murmured Ashley..

When the floor began to slope up to meet the ceiling and there wasn't enough room to stand comfortably Dr. Brown stopped and turned around. The girls stopped talking as they joined her in looking back on the cave.. They were at the tip of a v-shape looking back down at the walls angling down and away. The two sides were cast in shadow from the overhangs above while the center was brilliantly lit from the large hole in the ceiling. She followed the opposite wall back down slope, and the rest of the girls followed surprisingly quietly. She intended to make a full circuit of the extents of the cave, but as they got near the center, their attention was drawn upward to the men working on the surface above them.

"Let's test it!" They heard someone shout.

"Jon!" It was Dr. Moore's exasperated voice.

"What? I'm the lightest and I can jump out of the way if it doesn't hold." Jon's head appeared over the edge briefly as he looked down into the cave.

Keiko shielded her eyes as she looked up into the bright sunshine. It took a moment for her dark adjusted eyes to adapt, but from their vantage point across the cave they could see up to the top easily. The machine they had been constructing stood tall against the lip of the hole. An eight foot tall tripod was anchored with one foot near the edge and the other two at an angle behind. Suspended from the apex was a lever arm that could be swiveled from directly over the hole and then almost 90 degrees to one side so they could not only lift objects from below, but also set them safely on the ground on the side. Attached to the arm was a block and tackle pulley system and dangling from the ropes was a sturdy canvas holder. The plan was to secure the fossils prepared below in the cave in the canvas, lift them with the pulleys and then swivel over to a wagon waiting on the side and then they could transport the fossils back to camp.

Suddenly, Jon's whole body swung out into free space and appeared to defy gravity. Sometime during the warm morning he'd taken off his shirt and the sunlight glistened on his bare chest. It reflected off his wayward hair creating a halo effect around his face as he descended like a Greek god. As he slowly descended, they realized he had one foot in the canvas holder and one hand on the rope. Finally catching sight of the women under the shadows, his face broke into wide grin and he shouted, "Yee Haw!"

The spell was broken and the women all laughed. Abandoning their circuit of the cave, they cut straight across the middle and joined him just as Jon leapt lightly out of the sling contraption and onto the cave floor. "Success!" he yelled upwards to the ceiling.

Dr. Moore appeared at the top, holding onto the tripod as he leaned out to look down, "Let's send up one of the wrapped fossils," he said excitedly. "Do you need any help?"

Keiko smiled up at the exuberant man above, "We can help down here, Moore."

"It's going to be great, Brown," he called back with a huge grin.

"Congratulations," Keiko said turning to Jon and offering him her hand to shake.

He shrugged self-consciously and waved vaguely upward, "It's a team effort," he replied humbly. He looked intently at her as he took her hand, but didn't shake it. "I need your opinion Dr. Brown. Come with me," and he pulled her along out into the sunshine. "Just a minute, Gil," he called back up to Dr. Moore at the roof's edge.

Keiko followed along without question, his charismatic confidence making her follow as she realized that he had taken over the leadership of their expedition with out even trying. And she wasn't the least bit upset about it either.

"Let's see," muttered Jon still holding her hand as he led her back across the cave. "I think you were standing about here when I was coming down, weren't you?"

"I'm not sure," she admitted and blushed slightly. The sight of him descending had completely distracted her from her surroundings. And now holding his hand and standing so near him had made her aware of his masculine attributes as well.

"See? Isn't it darker?" he demanded finally letting go of her hand and pointing down to the shadowed ground.

"What?" she asked in confusion.

"Aren't fossils darker than the surrounding rock?" he asked a little unsure of himself.

"Oh, yes, well," she finally stopped staring at the handsome young man beside her and looked down at the ground. "Oh, yes!" she cried and fell to her knees to brush dirt away from the area. She looked up at Jon who was waiting expectantly for her opinion. "You've found another one!" she confirmed with a big smile.

"Cool," he replied, "now I can finally say I made a big find." His face fell a little as he thought of what his old friends would have said, and a vision of their faces abruptly appeared, but he blinked and quickly squelched the emotion. "Should I get the Professor?" he asked, anxious to distract himself.

"Yes," she nodded, "Moore's better with animals than me. I'm a plant specialist," and then her attention was focused on tracing faint patterns in the dirt.

In moments, Jon, Dr. Moore and the girls had returned Gil fell to his knees beside Keiko asking excitedly, "Is it really another one?"

"Yes, and look here," she traced out a pattern just slightly higher than the surrounding dirt. "Doesn't it look like a crest on a duck bill dinosaur?" Part of a skull lay exposed and she had dug out a small depression where an eye had once been. A long bone extended backward from the back of the skull and disappeared down into the surrounding rock.

"Hmm, yes, I see," murmured Dr. Moore entranced, "Parasaurolophus or maybe a Lambeosaurus. But isn't it strange? Those were late Cretaceous age dinosaurs, and I would have sworn this rock to be from the earlier Jurassic period. Very strange indeed," he wiped carefully on the exposed fossil.

"Isn't it the same type as the other dinosaur we found?" asked Susan.

"Well, from the shoulder bone we've been uncovering so far I would have thought that was a bigger animal. In fact my first instinct was to classify it as some sort of ceratopsian, but given the surrounding rock I was leaning toward a stegosaur, but now, I don't know," he rambled. He reached down and unzipped a pocket in his cargo pants removing a few sturdy zip lock bags. "Give me your rock hammer," he said to Keiko kneeling next to him.

"I left it back there," she said softly.

"That's useful," he said sarcastically.

"I'll get it," volunteered Jon and he jogged across the cave to the other fossil site to retrieve the hammer.

"You should always carry your rock hammer," Gil said looking up at the girls and going into teacher mode. "You never know what you might run across and he have to be prepared to gather samples. You should also have a way of marking the location, such as red flags or a permanent marker that you can use on the surrounding rock."

Annoyed with his implied slight of her skills as a paleontologist, Keiko began, "We were taking a deserved break and besides we're in a…"

"Here ya go Gil," Jon interrupted as he handed the hammer to the kneeling man.

The sound of him hammering kept her from continuing, besides she knew once he was in the zone, it was pretty hard to get Gil's attention. He wouldn't hear a thing she said.

Quickly he created a pile of rock chips and scooped them into one of the bags. He paused a moment and then gave one sharp blow to the fossil itself splintering off part of the eye socket.

"Moore!" protested Keiko.

"What?" He slid the fragment into a separate baggie.

"You just ruined my skull!"

"I thought it was my dinosaur," protested Jon who had squatted down between them.

"That's beside the point," Keiko began.

"Exactly," interrupted Gil this time. "We need to get it dated accurately." He stood up and tucked the baggies back into his pants pocket. "We're going to town," he announced

"Again?" asked Keiko feeling left out of the decision making process.

Jon could sense the tension building between the two as he stood up. He offered his had to the frowning woman, "Dr. Brown?" She brushed the dirt off of her hands and grabbed his hand to pull herself up.

"I'll check if the other samples have arrived and send these." He stared at their hands still clutched together. He threw an arm over Jon's shoulder and pulled him back away from Keiko. "Besides, we have to celebrate Jon's first official find."

"Cool," smiled Jon, "Gil, can we have cake?" he added mischievously, hoping to break the mood.

Keiko's eyes narrowed. Jon called her Dr. Brown, but him only Gil. The change in formality as well as his tone of voice was so different. She stared at the hand resting on Jon's naked shoulder.

"I think we can manage cake," replied Gil. "And you could use a shower too," he added teasingly.

Something snapped inside of Keiko. The cacophony of emotions she had been feeling all week blurred together. Fear, worry, relief, amazement, horror, frustration, irritation, exhaustion, excitement, embarrassment, loneliness, attraction and jealousy merged into a maelstrom. She fisted her hands together until she felt the fingernails digging into her palms trying to keep control. Snippets of the girls conversation earlier echoed in her mind. Jon didn't have a relationship with any of them, because he was involved with someone else that he was reluctant to talk about. All these years she had thought Gil was shy. She'd been patiently waiting for him, but she had erroneously assumed that he had actually been interested in her. She felt betrayed. He was gay. How had she missed that? More than that she was horrified that Gil had a relationship with a student. Maybe even had taken advantage of Jon. Her fury erupted as much for herself as for Jon. "You, you,…Bastard!" she yelled as she slapped Gil hard against the cheek

He reeled back away from her as she stood between him Jon and put his hand to his stinging face. To say he was flabbergasted was an understatement. He looked at her in total shock and confusion.

"I'll speak with you later, Doctor Moore," she managed to bite out between clenched teeth. She didn't want to make a big scene in front of all the students and felt suddenly ashamed at her own over reaction. Feeling tears welling up in her eyes, she stalked off to the ladder that led up out of the cave.

Gil looked over at the girls who stood in shocked silence staring back at him. Then he looked over at Jon who looked as amazed as he was. "What'd I do?" he asked in a small voice. He turned towards the ladder, where Keiko's figure was just disappearing up over the lip of the ceiling. "Should I go apologize?"

Mindy recovered first and stepped forward to pat his shoulder, "I'd let her calm down first, Professor."

"It's been a really long hard week," added Susan with a knowing sigh.

"Can we really all go into town?" asked Ashley. "I mean, I think it would be a good idea as a stress reliever and all."

"Sir?" asked Jon concerned with the confusion on the other man's face. "Are you all right?"

"What'd I do?" he just repeated, still staring at the ladder.

Jon realized it was up to him to make the decision. "You all go after her and load up in one car. There's a Best Western on the way into town, you can't miss it. Get some rooms for all of us. We'll be along behind you in a bit. A shower and a good meal, I bet that's all she needs. I know I could," he added with a grin.

"Right," acknowledged Mindy,

"Talk to you later," Susan gave him a significant look that implied she would pass on any information about what upset the older woman.

Jon nodded back, at least some of his team was on board. Now if he could just fix this rift in his two leadership members, the expedition would be back on track. "Come on, Gil, let's put up all the tools and things," he coaxed the still frozen man.

"Huh, oh, right," Gil replied still in a daze and he followed the younger man unquestionably.

TBC


	9. Sooner or Later, Now or Never

Younger than a Dinosaur

Chapter Nine: Sooner or Later, Now or Never

by Leanne Scott

Summary: What does mini Jack do over summer vacation?

Disclaimer: I don't own him or the other Stargate characters, yada, yada. But all the rest of the characters were given to me by the writing muse fairy.

Dear Readers, I can't begin to thank you enough for your kind reviews and encouragement. I must admit knowing that other people are wondering just where this plot bunny is hopping off to is what draws me back to the keyboard. Hope you enjoy the next twist in my strange little saga of the two Jacks….

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Jack was bored. The last few days had been tedious sentenced to rest in the hospital. He flung his yoyo out forcibly as he ticked off each adjective. Wearisome, tiresome, uninteresting, monotonous, dull, arid, slow, humdrum, and downright not amusing. He snapped the yoyo back up with an irritated jerk and muttered each letter as the yoyo slapped his hand on its way back down, "B-O-R-E-D."

Dr. Butler hadn't been back to check on him since the first afternoon. It had taken all of Jack's fore-bearance to patiently answer all of the doctor's questions about his diet and stress levels. He knew if he had over reacted, it would have just served to make the doctor believe in his conclusions of stress induced anorexia or worse, bulimia. In the end, it was with General Hammond backing him up that the doctor had relented from making him see a psychiatrist. But he'd had to compromise with a continued stay in the hospital for bed rest, an IV full of minerals, and four meals a day until Jack's blood levels normalized. Some people might have viewed it as a vacation, but Jack couldn't stand feeling useless. It was one thing if he'd really been injured, but he was fine. There was so much to do in organizing his department. He couldn't believe it, but he was itching to do paperwork.

Even the sweet nurse Jackie had gotten exasperated with him and his snarky comments. Guilt from having punched her accidentally when he had woken up had made him be nice for two whole days, but that had been two days ago. She had removed the IV line that morning, but had insisted on taking a blood sample from his other arm before she would give him breakfast. He had snapped something off about her being as comforting as a mother porcupine and she had just glared at him.

Not a single nurse had come into his room since then. It had been a very quiet morning, and he almost wished someone would come in to take his vitals. So when the door cracked open, he caught the yoyo and looked up with what he hoped was a friendly smile. He didn't have to fake it long as a shaggy, brown head leaned in through the door and twinkling blue eyes surveyed them through a pair of glasses, "You don't look like a man eating tiger to me."

"Daniel!" Jack exclaimed in surprise. "What are you doing here?"

"General Hammond called the SGC yesterday. We got back from a mission, and after our debriefing arranged for us to have some leave," the lanky archeologist eased in through the door, but didn't open it all the way.

"We?" Jack demanded picking up on the pronoun.

Dr. Daniel Jackson grinned and threw the door open to reveal Lieutenant Colonel Samantha Carter dressed smartly in uniform. Despite having traveled from Colorado, she managed to look as neat in her jacket as Daniel looked rumpled in his suit. Walking in behind her was their fellow team member Teal'c wearing a baseball hat pulled low over his brow to hide the gold emblem to a false god embedded in his forehead.

"O'Neill," Teal'c stepped forward first and reached out to grasp Jack's forearm in the Jaffa way of greeting. "It is good to see you well." Jack was surprised to see an open smile on the normally stoic man's face.

"T, it's good to see you too" Jack squeezed the warrior's arm back in welcome.

"Sir," acknowledged Carter smiling brightly at him.

He stared at her sappily for a moment just drinking in the sight of her. She looked fit and healthy and never more beautiful. For a moment their eyes were glued on each other, and then Daniel clapped a hand on Jack's shoulder breaking the spell. "Carter," he managed to cough out.

"So has the Doctor been in yet?" asked Daniel with a little bounce on his toes.

"That worthless shyster? I haven't seen him in days," Jack groused. "Why?"

"To look over your blood work, of course," Daniel replied.

"Again, why?"

"To see if your levels are normal, sir," added Carter.

"Like it matters. They've sentenced me here for a week and it's only been 4 days," complained Jack.

"The staff suggested that if your blood levels had sufficiently stabilized that you could be released to complete your recovery at home," explained Daniel diplomatically.

"You mean they're tired of me being a pain in the ass," admitted Jack.

"Indeed." Teal'c intoned.

They all looked at each other and burst out laughing. It was the best dose of medicine he'd gotten all week. Jack looked at his smiling friends, his comrades in arms, his liberators, and felt a flush of fierce pride and love for his family.

He wished he had a camera to keep that image of them forever, so he deliberately blinked his eyes and froze every detail in his mind. And just for a moment he was in that cave again. He opened his eyes quickly and was reassured that they were still there. Not wanting to jeopardize his freedom, he decided to ignore the little connection he felt in the back of his mind and decided to concentrate on the here and now.

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Jon turned the Suburban smoothly onto the paved road and shifted out of low gear. Since he had been to town earlier that week, the professor had chosen him to drive, and as they accelerated onto the highway, he couldn't help but grin. It had been a long time since he'd driven a large vehicle. Ever since he had to give up his big, beautiful, black Ford pickup he had been driving a Chevy Metro. It had been a choice of convenience and economy. He did have to live on a limited stipend from the Air Force, and besides who would believe a high school student on his own with an expensive car. He had planned on replacing it as soon as it died, but the Metro had proven to be surprisingly well built. And it got almost 50 miles to the gallon compared to his old truck's 14. But the three cylinder engine really did lack the punch a good old V-8 engine could provide. He floored the accelerator on the open road, lost in a memory of speed and half expecting to take off into the sky.

"JON!" exclaimed a voice at his elbow, breaking his reverie.

"Umm, sorry, Professor," he let off on the gas and let the car coast down to a legal speed. He looked over at the still shell shocked man sitting limply in the passenger seat. Dr. Moore was still confused by Dr. Brown's outburst and resumed his staring, unseeing, out the windshield. He glanced in the rear view mirror at the other men arrayed in the seats behind. The two jocks, Derrick and Dwain were in the far back seat playing Slap Jack or some equally juvenile card game. In the middle seat, the graduate student, Neal, was slumped against the window sleeping, while Stan and Robert were quietly discussing design plans for a better wagon to move fossils down the hill to camp.

It had taken them over an hour to organize the dig site, and Dr. Moore had insisted that they hoist up several fossils and carry them down the hill so as not to waste a trip. Then he had spent almost another hour packing them carefully in crates so they could ship them to the university. The three large boxes were now safely tucked in the back along with their packs full of dirty laundry. They were well behind the women who had left for town before they had gotten back in camp. None of the other guys knew about the incident between the two professors and Jon knew it was up to him to bring up the subject.

It wasn't good for his team for the two leaders to be fighting and he had to get to the bottom of the problem and help them patch things up. But, oh God, he was terrible at this touchy, feely stuff. Wracking his brain for a way to start the conversation, Jon finally settled on a question that he was actually curious about. "So Professor," he said getting the man's attention, "Isn't this Dr. Brown's car? I wonder why she took the van and didn't take her own car?"

"The van is mostly for carrying supplies and doesn't have enough seats. I guess some of you could have sat on the floorboards, but she knew we'd need this car for everyone to have a seat and safety belt. Even when she's mad she thinks of others," he sighed.

"Oh," replied Jon softly, at a loss at what to say next. "Umm, so did you all figure that out earlier this week?"

"No, we worked that out weeks ago once we knew how many students would be coming along."

"I guess you would have to get together to plan all the logistics of this expedition," Jon mused.

"No, actually this year we didn't. Since this is our third summer dig together, we sent daily emails and talked on the phone a couple times a week," Moore explained.

"You emailed each other every day?" asked Jon in amazement. He had never fully embraced all the new technology. While his body might be ready for the digital millennium, his brain was still patterned by the analog era.

"Well, actually, several times a day," Moore reluctantly admitted.

Jon took his eyes off the road for a moment and squinted at the professor as a thought came into his mind. He decided to follow his instincts. Looking back out the windshield, he changed the topic of conversation, "It was lucky we found these fossils so quickly. When did you make your find last summer?"

"Oh, gosh, I guess it was over three weeks of hiking around before we made a significant find," recalled Moore.

Smiling at the quaint expression, Jon pressed the professor for more details, "We?"

"Like we did on Monday. We'd start off as a group, break up into teams to scour an area and then all hike back to camp together again. Brown found the Brachiosaur from last year," he added proudly, "She's got a good instinct for finding fossils."

"And you'd usually talk while you were hiking, right?"

"Naturally," Moore replied starting to get a little irritated with the young man who just wouldn't leave him alone.

"But I guess this week, it's been quite a bit different, hasn't it? I mean, we've been busy building the crane for the last several days," Jon started.

Moore straightened in his chair and frowned at the young man at the wheel, "Where are you going with this?"

"I'm just trying to help," Jon replied defensively, "Trust me."

"All right," agreed Moore reluctantly.

"So, not counting this morning, when was the last time you talked to Dr. Brown?"

"What? I saw her at breakfast and at dinner the day before," he replied defensively.

"I don't mean a quick hello," snapped Jon, "I mean an honest to god conversation."

"Well, I guess Monday. But what's that got to do with anything?"

"Moore, how old are you?" demanded Jon.

The older man stared at the younger man for a moment confused by the pattern of questions, but he finally shrugged, "Thirty-eight."

"Unmarried, right?" Jon risked a glance at the confused man beside him. "Ever have a steady girl friend?"

"Not that it's your business. But I'll have you know I had a very nice girl friend in college," huffed Moore.

"So why'd you break up then?"

"Simple. We went to different graduate schools," Moore smiled wistfully.

"Three years for a Masters, six more for a PhD and fighting for tenure ever since, right?" summarized Jon.

"Uh-huh," grunted Moore in agreement, dismayed with the pathetic synopsis of his adult life.

Jon shook his head with a bemused smile on his face. The guy was so much like his old friend Daniel Jackson it was uncanny. If Daniel hadn't been GIVEN his wife Shar're, he wouldn't have ever been married either. Jon might have been a lousy husband and an even worse father. He winced at the thought and stuffed it back into the depths. But at least he'd pursued Sara and had honestly proposed to her. He might be inept at this relationship stuff, but he'd learned one thing over the years. "You can never ignore a woman you have a relationship with," he uttered aloud.

"Huh?" asked an even more confused Moore, now staring at Jon.

"You can pass social pleasantries, you can complain, listen to her complain, consult, discuss, tease, flirt, even yell at her, but you can NOT ignore her," he explained.

Moore blinked his eyes to focus them squarely on Jon's face. 'How'd this kid get to be so wise?' he wondered to himself, not for the first time. "So Keiko's mad at me because I didn't talk to her for a couple of days?" he asked hesitantly.

"Think about it," cajoled Jon. "You were emailing every day, and then when you're there in person, nothing."

"But that doesn't explain the slap. She was really mad. I've never seen her like that before. Actually, she was a bit scary," Moore subconsciously withdrew in his chair.

Jon nodded in agreement, "Yeah, that does seem to be a bit of an over reaction. What did you say just before then?"

Moore winced in memory, "I was saying we should celebrate finding another dinosaur. Why should she get upset about that?"

"Because, you said, we should all go to town," Jon muttered slowly, getting another insight into the feminine psyche. He shot a glance over to the clueless professor. "Don't you see? You are supposed to be running this expedition together and you've been cutting her out of the decision making process."

"Well, I guess," Moore agreed reluctantly.

"No, I know. I remember when I brought a sofa home once and Sara got really mad about not getting a say in such a big purchase. Although it was a really good deal since one of the other officers was being transferred," Jon reminisced.

"You brought a sofa home?" asked Moore in confusion.

"Oh, my uncle and I did," Jon back-peddled hastily. "Look, the point is, you need to apologize to her for ignoring her and promise to keep her in the decision making loop from now on. And you need to do it as soon as possible. You can't let this fester. You got it?" he demanded, his officer voice coming out unconsciously.

"Yes," acknowledged Moore. He looked out at the windshield at the little town growing larger every second. "Sooner than later."

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Jack stepped out of the shower and wrapped the fluffy bath sheet around himself with a satisfied grin. The hospital linens had left much to be desired. The wimpy, water conserving shower heads at the hospital had been disappointing too. Not to mention having to deal with an IV line attached to his arm. It felt great to take a real hot shower and let the water pound out the tension that had been building in his shoulders. He tousled his hair dry and quickly pulled on a pair of causal slacks and one of his favorite long sleeve sports shirts. He padded barefoot out into the master bedroom surrounded by a haze of steam and was startled to see Daniel sitting on his bed.

"Jack," Daniel said evenly.

"Daniel," he acknowledged back.

"Jack?" Daniel did that little thing with a wrinkle in his forehead that said, spill the beans.

"Daniel?" Jack feigned ignorance. He'd played the game enough years now.

"Jack!" Daniel exclaimed in exasperation.

"What?" Jack replied stubbornly.

"We're worried about you," Daniel admitted.

"I'm fine," protested Jack.

"Hammond wasn't able to talk much, but from what I've heard, collapsing due to complete exhaustion does not seem like fine."

"Okay, but that was days ago. I'm sure that won't happen again," Jack said dismissively with a wave of his hand and turned to the dresser to pull out some fresh socks.

"Speaking Ancient?" Daniel continued his prodding.

Jack turned with scowl. "I don't want to talk about it right now."

"We're here to help, Jack," Daniel said earnestly.

"Look, I just got home. I have my three best friends visiting me and I want to have a relaxing evening, not get psychoanalyzed.. You can help me by just being my friend," Jack stared into Daniel's eyes willing him to understand.

"You're going to have to tell us sooner or later."

"I choose later," Jack replied stubbornly.

"Later? You promise?" Daniel felt his resolve wavering.

"Yes, Daniel, I promise. Just give me a night off will ya?" Jack agreed.

Daniel studied his friend not seeing a hard nosed General as much as a lonely man. He nodded and gave him a reassuring smile.

"What are Carter and Teal'c up to?" Jack asked as he plopped on the bed next to Daniel to pull on his socks.

"Sam went to change in the spare bedroom and Teal'c is making lemonade."

"Lemonade?" Jack asked incredulously.

"Lemonade," Daniel declared authoritatively, "It's his new favorite."

"All right then," Jack clapped a hand on Daniel's shoulder as he stood up, "Let the party begin," he said with a chuckle.

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They found the motel easily and quickly picked up their keys from the front desk. Dr. Brown had gotten a double room for the girls to share and a single for herself, and had reserved three more doubles for the boys and another single for Dr. Moore. He pulled his credit card out to pay for the rooms and held out three key cards, "Here. You all figure out the sleeping arrangements. Get showers and we'll go do laundry before having dinner," he suggested.

"I'll be happy to throw yours in a machine," Jon gave him a significant look, implying now was the time for a talk with Dr. Brown.

"Thanks," Moore replied dryly.

As the young men walked down the hall toward the rooms, Jon quickly realized how the room arrangements would work out. The two jocks and the two geeks were clearly already friends so that left him with the graduate student, Neal the heel. He slowed his step to study Neal out of the corner of his eye. To tell the truth, Jon had pretty much ignored the guy since the first day and had managed to have little personal interaction with him. He sighed. It was time to include the haughty man into the team as well. Putting on a forced smile he turned to Neal and tried to mend fences, "So Neal, we can get to know each other better now as roomies, eh?"

"Oh don't even try me," Neal scowled.

"Excuse me?" Jon asked politely.

"I'll be happy to throw yours in a machine," Neal mocked, "You little brown noser."

"What'd you say?" Jon stopped in the hall turning icy eyes on the arrogant man who glared back at him with open hatred. His mind turned over at least six different ways he could take the hateful man down, although he wasn't sure a court of law would find him not guilty for manslaughter due to self defense.

Fortunately, Robert and Stan had stopped walking too and stepped between the two of them. Robert had a hand on Jon's upper arm not yet restraining him, but ready to grab the twitching muscles back if needed. "He's not worth it," he murmured solely for Jon's ear, "We've got plenty of room. You stay with us."

"Yeah, go on," Stan waved Neal forward. The man sneered superiorly and strode down the hall after the two jocks who had gone on without noticing the little altercation. Stan turned to Jon with a shake of his head, "He's even worse than last year. He's an idiot. Don't let him get to you."

Jon took a deep cleansing breath and tried to let the adrenalin ebb back down. He nodded, "I know, but thanks."

"We caught the tail end of your talk with the Professor on the way into town. You're trying to patch up some argument they had, aren't you?" asked Robert.

"Yeah, but keep it quiet will you?" Jon looked worried.

"Don't worry, man. We're cool," Stan reassured him.

Jon smiled at his two new friends. The thought of having to spend an evening with Neal had seemed like a new form of torture. Suddenly his prospects for a fun evening just got a whole lot brighter.

Stan led the way and opened the room door. He threw his backpack on the floor, scooped up the remote control, threw himself on a queen sized mattress and turned the TV on all in one fluid motion. "You can have the shower first Jon," he gestured magnanimously.

"Yeah, but use it to cool down and don't use up all the hot water," admonished Robert with a grin as he flopped on the other bed.

Minutes later, Jon was standing in the shower letting it pound out the tension in his shoulders. After a few minutes, he reluctantly washed his hair and quickly rinsed off to give the other guys a chance to clean up too. He scowled at the wimpy towel and flashed to a vision of being in a hospital shower with an IV in his arm and an equally wimpy towel in his hand. As he looked at himself in the foggy mirror, he got a strange image of short cropped, silver hair but when he wiped the mirror hastily with a corner of the towel his hair was back to its normal brown. Weird.

Quickly he pulled on his jeans and his last clean shirt, a long sleeved sports shirt. He stepped out of the small bathroom with a swirl of steam and saw Daniel sitting on the bed.

He blinked in shock, and the figure turned into Stan looking expectantly at him.

"My turn," Stan sprung up and brushed past Jon, who stood frozen for a moment.

Jon moved slowly to the bed and sat on the edge staring at the TV screen. The images came and went as Robert blipped through the various channels, but Jon wasn't really looking at them. He replayed in his mind the battle with the mountain lion and recalled the injuries not only he, but also Susan had sustained. Looking down he flexed his left arm and realized there wasn't a scar or even a mark where the lion had bitten him and broken his arm.

Guiltily he realized he hadn't thought about his older self. Truth was he didn't want to. But he hadn't even considered what the cost had been in saving both their lives. He had woken up tired and very hungry, but both things had been easily remedied. But what had happened to Jack? Dimly he remembered the feeling of power flowing into him as they had healed Susan together, but when it came to his own arm, he couldn't remember anything past wedging his hand under his knee so he could pull backwards and set the broken bones. Jack had obviously stayed conscious and fixed him, but had stayed conscious within Jon. That was just too weird. Jon leaned forward and cradled his forehead in his palms, leaning his elbows on his knees. Tentatively, he reached out with his mind and then felt the buzz of a connection.

Daniel's blue eyes were staring back into his own. Studying him like one of his artifacts. Jon felt a pang of homesickness and loneliness like he hadn't felt since the beginning of his three year odyssey as an emancipated teenager. Daniel smiled reassuringly back at him.

"Jon? You all right?" a voice interrupted.

Jon jerked his head up out of his hands and severed the connection to his other self. Ruthlessly he repressed the surge of jealousy and anger he felt towards his own self for living what he thought of was his life. He thought he'd gotten over it a couple years ago, but in true O'Neill fashion he had really just buried his feelings. And would continue to do so he grimaced.

"Jon?" the voice asked again with concern.

He looked over at Robert and forced a smile as he nodded, "I'm fine." So long as he NEVER thought about his other life again.

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And so Dear Readers, I leave you once again…but hopefully not as long because I have the first part of the next chapter already written….


	10. Night on the Town

Younger than a Dinosaur

Chapter Ten: Night on the Town

by Leanne Scott

Summary: What does mini Jack do over summer vacation?

Disclaimer: I don't own him or the other Stargate characters, yada, yada. But all the rest of the characters were given to me by the writing muse fairy.

Despite having written the first half of this back in May, Real Life has conspired against me in finishing, but finally, and with robust thanks for those encouraging reviews to do so…I humbly post again.

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Jack stretched out his long legs and basked in the setting sun filling his back patio with golden light. It had been a pleasant afternoon drinking lemonade and listening to his old team mates retell stories of their adventures in the past year. It wasn't that he didn't know what had happened. He read certain field reports with great enthusiasm. It was all the little details that didn't make it into the formal reports that he wanted to know about. The errors in judgment, the stupid moves, the sheer dumb luck and the snarky comments that really happened when you were on a mission. God, he missed it. He missed them. He missed the way that he used to be too.

"So, what do you want for dinner Jack?" asked Daniel interrupting the moment of comfortable silence.

"Hmm? Oh, I guess we can rustle up something," Jack opened his eyes and waved aimlessly behind him at his kitchen.

"Please. You make Mother Hubbard look like a food hoarder," teased Daniel.

"I could really go for some steak, sir," suggested Sam.

Jack looked over at the beautiful, blond scientist and knew he could deny her nothing. "Actually, that sounds pretty good to me. I have some serious protein cravings," his eyes twinkled at hers in memory of a similar conversation years ago when they had tested the Tok'ra arm bands.

Sam smiled back surprised that he was bringing up that memory.

"And no billiards this time, you pool shark. The results were just a bit messy," Jack teased.

Sam laughed at the memory of the fight they had all gotten into, and felt a warmth of feeling that she had denied for so long creep into her cheeks. "You're right," she agreed. Looking at his relaxed face she suddenly felt brave, "I think we should go dancing instead," she openly flirted. Teal'c and Daniel both turned wondering eyes on her but she ignored them. Her attention was fixed on the handsome man stretched out in the chair across from her.

Jack's eyebrows shot up, but he maintained his casual pose in the chair. "Only if you have a twirly skirt," he flirted back.

Ever since he had been promoted to General, he had maintained a carefully proper relationship with her. She was so relieved that the fun side of him had only been hidden, not lost. "I think that can be arranged," and she gave him one of her brilliant, 100 watt grins.

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Keiko scowled at herself in the mirror as she combed out her hair after her shower. This was probably the worst day of her life. Not only had she totally lost her temper, but she felt so betrayed that she was heart sick. The girls had tried to talk to her during the drive from camp to town, but she had begged off saying she needed to focus on driving and to sort out her thoughts. The problem was her thoughts were not getting sorted like they were supposed to. If anything they were braiding into tangled webs where she both congratulated and berated herself for the morning's events. It was all that kid Jon's fault. Everything had been fine until Gil had met him. Oh, Gil! She couldn't believe what a scumbag he had turned out to be. All this time playing the mild mannered professor. She should have known. No one could be so gentlemanly for so long. And considerate, and respectful, and witty, and intelligent, and…argh! She slammed her hand on the porcelain counter. She would not fall for him again.

She pawed through her back and pulled out a sweat shirt and some fleece pants. She had brought them in case they had any cold weather, and at this point they were the only clean things left. She hated to admit that Gil had been right to suggest going into town and getting cleaned up. Ordinarily she would have been encouraging everyone to wash things out in the river until the middle of the seven week expedition when they usually went to town. Although last year that was after they'd made the big find. She would have never predicted they'd find something the first day.

She moved listlessly into the small room and eyed the bed. She was so tired. Not only physically from all the hiking and hauling water up hill, but also from the emotional roller coaster she was on. It had been a crazy week.

She lay down for a few minutes but couldn't get comfortable as her mind just went around in circles. Finally, she turned the TV on and mindlessly switched the channels just to hear something other than her own thoughts. Finding a sports channel, she scooted back into the pillows and lay down again. She remembered her childhood and how her dad and brother would take over the set every weekend to watch football, or basketball, or baseball. It didn't matter which sport just so long as they could eat chips and cheer together. She'd always gone to her room and read books. She just didn't find sports that interesting. And that was one of the things she had liked about Gil too. He wasn't a sports fanatic either. He had explained once that it wasn't that he hated sports, it was that there were so many other things he wanted to do with his time. She closed her eyes and listened to the droning of the announcers, remembering simpler days.

A knock startled her awake and she glanced at her watch surprised to see that two hours had gone past. Still a little groggy from her nap, she stumbled to the door and opened it half way. Gil stood there with a tight smile on his face. He'd definitely come to see her right off the road as he was still sweaty and dusty from the dig site. She couldn't help thinking that he looked cute in an Indiana Jones kind of way, and instinctively smiled.

"Brown," he said hesitantly.

"Moore," she narrowed her eyes at him remembering now that she was awake that she was supposed to be mad at him.

"I came to apologize. Can I come in?" he asked.

She sighed. They would have to have this conversation sooner or later. She opened the door wider and stepped back to let him in, watching him warily as he closed the door. He stepped closer to her and she took several steps backward until her knees hit the mattress.

Leaving her some personal space, Gil swallowed and looked back at her nervously. "Look, I know I've been ignoring you this week. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to." He looked at her hopefully, "You know how I am. I just got so excited about finding the cave and the fossils and couldn't wait to get them out of the ground. And I'm sorry about making the decision to come to town without consulting you. It just seemed like a good idea at the time. I promise to consult with you from now on. Will you forgive me?"

"You think I'm mad about that?" she demanded in astonishment. "I'm not mad about THAT!" Her eyes flashed and her nostrils flared as she prepared to let him have it.

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Jon had had a surprisingly good afternoon. The three girls had pounded on the door just as Robert had finished his shower, and demanded that they all drive to a Laundromat. They had collected Dr. Brown's and Dr. Moore's back packs already, and the jocks had bribed them with snack money to do their laundry so that they could stay in their room and watch a football game. Nobody even wanted to talk to Neal, and they collectively decided to get away as soon as possible. So the six of them had spent the afternoon in a Laundromat eating chips, drinking sodas and waiting on the machines. The conversation had ranged from music to movies to an inane conversation comparing the characters from the two old TV shows Seinfeld and Friends. Jon hadn't laughed so hard in he didn't know how long. Finally, the dryers were done and the clothes had all been folded. It was time to get back to the motel and meet the others for dinner.

"Oh, look, Jonny," Ashley leaned forward from the back seat and brushed her hand down his shoulder, "They have Karaoke tonight." He shrugged her hand off lightly and she pointed past him through the windshield at a sign for a Sizzler Restaurant along the city's commercial strip.

"Oh, no," groaned both Stan and Robert from the far back seat.

"Come on, it'll be fun!" exclaimed Ashley turning animatedly back towards them giving both young men a full dose of her most charming smile.

"Doesn't look like there are a lot of other choices beside Burger Death," remarked Mindy dryly from the front passenger seat.

"Susan?" pleaded Ashley looking for some support from her friend sitting next to her.

"A steak would be tasty," conceded Susan.

"Not really our call," Jon remarked trying to forestall any decision. "Let's see what our fearless leaders have to say." Fortunately, the motel was at the next light and he turned into the parking lot with a sigh of relief.

They all trooped into the lobby and split up to head to the opposite wings. Stan and Robert carried both theirs and Derrick and Dwain's backpacks off to the left. While Jon trailed behind the girls carrying both Dr. Moore's and his own back pack. The girls pointed to the professor's door and then continued down the hall to their own room.

Jon knocked sharply on the door, hoping that Gil had taken his advice and had spoken to Keiko that afternoon. He was so sure he was right about why she was mad.

"Jon," Gil said as he opened the door, "Come in. Here, I'll take that," and he relieved Jon of the extra back pack. "Thanks for doing my clothes too."

"Sure. So, umm, did you get a chance," Jon began awkwardly.

Gil smiled sheepishly and looked rather embarrassed. "Yes, well, about that," he dithered as he closed the door.

"Gil," Jon scolded like a parent disappointed in his child.

"No, no, I talked to her. Umm, here, have a seat," Gil pulled out the desk chair for Jon while he perched on the side of the bed.

"So did you apologize?" demanded Jon.

"Yes," replied Gil firmly. "You were partially right. She was upset about being left out of the decision making, and she did admit to feeling lonely as well."

"Partially?" questioned Jon.

"Well, she was jealous too."

"Jealous?" Jon was beginning to feel like a parrot. "Of what?"

"Of you," Gil answered looking extremely uncomfortable as he swept his hand back in forth in the space between them. "She was mad because she thought we were having a relationship."

Jon turned pink with embarrassment, "Us?" he squeaked.

"I know," agreed Gil looking away for a minute at the wall. "It wasn't until she started yelling at me for taking advantage of a student that I finally figured it out. I don't know what gave her that idea."

Jon just stared back with his mouth hanging open. He'd been accused of many things in his life, but being gay wasn't one of them.

"I guess you and I have been working a lot together the last few days on the crane and all," continued Gil. "She thought there was something more than friendship because she couldn't imagine what a 38 year old man and an 18 year old boy would have in common."

Jon still couldn't speak. 'That's because I think like a 48 year old,' he thought to himself.

"You just don't talk or think like an 18 year old."

Jon started at Gil's words almost mirroring his own thoughts.

Gil looked worried now. "You don't talk about yourself much, but I know you've experienced a tragedy. I guess what you've had to overcome in your life has just given you maturity beyond your age," Gil looked like he was walking on egg shells. "I don't want to make you uncomfortable or anything, but could you say something here?"

Jon grinned wryly. 'If you only knew,' he thought to himself. and shook his head, "And I was so sure I knew why she was mad."

Gil laughed nervously. "So we'll all keep this to ourselves, okay?"

"Absolutely," Jon reached a hand out to shake on it. "Never leaves the room." In the big picture of things he'd buried in the past, this one barely rated a pixel.

"So I hope you don't get offended if I start spending more time with Dr. Brown. I guess I was beginning to take her for granted and I really don't want her to stay mad at me," admitted Gil.

"So, big guy, she was jealous, huh?" teased Jon.

"What?" Gil looked positively petrified at the turn in the conversation.

"Do I have to draw a diagram? It's pretty obvious now, isn't it?"

"Dr. Brown and I have a perfectly professional relationship," protested Gil.

"I've seen you two talking together," taunted Jon.

"What?" Gil protested again.

"She practically glows when she's talking to you, Gil. Come on. Make a move. What are you waiting for?" Jon tried to cheer him on.

"But we're in the same profession. She's in one city and I'm in another. We could never both get jobs at the same school," he replied logically. "My science is my life and I could never ask her to give up her career either."

Jon sighed. Those arguments used to make sense to him too. Once upon a time. He squinted his eyes and clenched his jaw against the raw emotion that thinking about a certain astrophysicist brought out of him. He stared at his clenched fists until he felt it ebb away. Not raising his eyes from the floor, he said, "You don't know if you don't try. Don't waste time. Life is too short and precious. Don't wait until you wake up someday and find all your chances are gone. Lost forever." He finally looked up at Gil and let the man see the anguish he was feeling. "Don't become me."

Gil stared back. Shaken at the depths in Jon's eyes. He could see the pain, the sorrow, the loneliness, and watched as they hardened to steely resolve.

"Do you love her?" Jon demanded.

Gil heard himself say, "Yes," before he really had a chance to think it.

"Then you owe it to her and yourself to tell her that. Take a chance," Jon advised.

"You're a wise man, Jon O'Neill," Gil nodded once. "Thanks."

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"You're acting like a foolish child," hissed Daniel in exasperation.

Jack looked at him over the spoon hanging off his nose and grinned. Looking past Daniel he caught Sam's eye out on the dance floor with Teal'c. Her silvery laugh was his reward as she twirled away. His sole aim the whole evening was to see how many times he could evoke that smile or better yet this laugh, and he was storing away every memory like a squirrel its nuts for winter. And he knew that winter. The months he'd endured without that sunshine of her smile. And he refused to even contemplate his life when they had returned to the SGC without him. He was living in the here and now, and basking in it.

"Ja-ack," whined Daniel.

"Okay, okay," Jack set the spoon down and took another sip of beer.

"I'm not so sure we should have let you have any alcohol," worried Daniel.

"I'm fine. You're being an old mother hen again," asserted Jack.

"We just checked you out of the hospital this morning," Daniel protested.

"Where all they were doing was trying to fatten me up by making me eat and sleep. This is good empty calories," and he mock toasted the glass in the air before taking another slug of beer.

As the song ended, Sam and Teal'c returned to the table and both took large drinks of water. Teal'c surreptitiously mopped his brow with a napkin barely lifting the fedora hat that he wore to cover his tattoo. "I believe it is your turn O'Neill," he announced.

Jack gave a sidelong glance to Sam's glistening shoulders, "I don't want to tire our girl out," he tried to reply airily.

"Come on," she took his hand in hers, "It'll be fun," and she smiled radiantly.

Jack glanced over at the band and swallowed nervously. 'Anything but a slow song,' he prayed.

"Afraid you can't keep up with me, old man?" Sam drawled teasingly. Just then the band broke into "Johnny B Good" and Jack knew he was saved.

"We'll see who can keep up with who," he teased back and twirled her out on the dance floor into a series of swing dance moves that he hadn't used in a long time, but he hadn't forgotten either.

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Gil had insisted on getting the fossils and rock samples sent back to the university as soon as possible and they just managed to finish all the arrangements at the bus station when the evening eastbound to Denver arrived. Jon quickly organized the rest of the students into worker ants, and the boxes of carefully packed specimens were tucked neatly into one of the bus's luggage compartments. They would be forwarded on to Colorado Springs the next morning where Dr. Moore's colleagues would collect them the following afternoon, and hopefully be ready to begin testing by Monday morning.

Rubbing his hands together, Gil beamed happily at the students standing around the van and SUV, "So, dinner?"

Fortunately for the male contingent of the expedition, they did not end up at the Sizzler with its karaoke night. In fact, they found a fun bar and grill just past the bus station. The Cottonwood was clearly a local favorite as the rapidly filling parking lot attested. The group filed into the unpromising looking warehouse like building to find a homey looking restaurant on one side, a large rectangular bar in the center, and a stage with small tables scattered around a dance floor area on the other side of the building. They pulled three tables together and assembled around the edges while a perky waitress took their drink orders.

The menu was a pretty standard assortment of country style favorites, but for its simplicity the steak and mashed potatoes Jon spied on the next table looked pretty appetizing. His stomach growled loudly and he grinned sheepishly, "Excuse me."

Keiko smiled hesitantly at him from the other side of Dr. Moore, "It's been a long day, hasn't it Jon?"

He made eye contact trying to convey both his understanding and apology for his part in her misunderstanding, and then nodded as he saw the answering gleam in her eye. "Yes, Ma'am," he answered like a first year cadet, granting her respect.

Keiko gave him a full smile and nodded back in acceptance.

Mindy watched the exchange from her seat next to Jon realizing something had just gone down between the two, but not quite understanding what that was. Afraid that Dr. Brown was going to get upset again like that morning, she tried to lighten the mood, "I'm so hungry I could eat a dinosaur!" she exclaimed.

"Or at least one of those steaks," agreed Susan jutting her chin towards the other table.

"Speaking of dinosaurs," Keiko began, shaking a finger at Gil, "I'm still mad at you for damaging that specimen this morning," and she pretended to scowl at him. It was lame, she knew, but she felt that she had to explain herself to the girls somehow and hoped they would buy her excuse without too much questioning. "Just what possessed you to do such a thing?" she demanded.

Gil looked startled for a moment, "Oh, that. Yes, well you see," he floundered but quickly caught on when she arched her eyebrows at him, "I'm sorry Brown," he said very sincerely looking deeply into her eyes.

Across the table, Mindy nudged Susan and gave a significant look at the two professors staring at each other, "Classic denial," she whispered and Susan nodded back in agreement.

Jon cleared his throat loudly and gave the girls a Mind-Your-Own-Business glare, which they at least had the grace to look guilty about.

Gil broke eye contact and looked around the table almost surprised to see all the students still there because for a moment it had been only him and Keiko. "Well, students, it is considered poor form to damage one's specimens," he began in his teacher voice, "Most of the time they are in a jumble of pieces already and it's hard enough to assemble them. However, this morning we had just discovered the skull and as I knew we needed to get a sample sent to the lab right away, I went ahead and broke off a piece."

"You purposely damaged an intact skull?" demanded Neal sitting next to Keiko. He patted her hand superciliously, "You were quite right to be angry with him."

"Why the rush, Professor?" asked Stan coming into the conversation not wanting Neal to start pontificating. He remembered from last summer what a pain Neal could be.

"It seemed pretty obvious that it was a Lambeosaur," replied Dr. Moore, "and that's not an especially rare dinosaur. There are plenty of complete skeleton's out there," he added dismissively. "Anyway, that's not the mystery."

"Mystery?" Susan echoed curiously.

"I'm pretty sure the first skeleton was that of some kind of ceratopsian, so what would it be doing with a duck bill? But more importantly, how could two Cretaceous age dinosaurs get into Jurassic age rocks?"

"At Dinosaur National Monument there is a whole wall of fossils with many types mixed together. What's so unusual about having two types?" Neal said dismissively.

"It's pretty clear that those fossils formed at the bend of a river and accumulated over time, hence the jumble," Gil replied, "Ours aren't like that. It's almost as if they lay down and died together." He stared off in the distance thinking.

"Are you sure about what kind of animals they were, Moore?" asked Keiko.

He nodded confidently. "We've studied the maps together, Brown. At the level on the mountain that we found the cave, it has to be Jurassic era. Those kind of fossils just shouldn't be there," he insisted.

"Unless you're wrong about the genus," Neal sniped.

"Hence the need for radiometric dating," Moore snapped back. He shifted to look better at Keiko and added in a warmer voice, "that's why I took a sample from the specimen."

She looked back at him, "I'm sorry I got so upset." They both knew she wasn't apologizing over the fossil and she got lost in his eyes again.

Oblivious to them, Stan continued the discussion with his own musings, "Maybe it was already a cave during their era and the dinosaurs got trapped in there somehow."

"That's stupid," Neal protested, "how would the bodies get buried for preservation that way?"

"The dirt around the shoulder bone we worked on this morning did seem a bit ashy," Keiko interrupted thoughtfully, joining in the theorizing. "Perhaps a volcanic eruption occurred and the dust blew in to cover the area."

"I thought the Cretaceous dinosaurs all went extinct because of a meteor hitting the Earth, Professor. Isn't that what you talked about in class?" asked Susan.

"It was the final blow," he acceded, "but there's evidence that there had been a decline for thousands of years before that event. In any case, from the discovery of a crater it is clear that the meteor struck the Yucatan region, which is geographically too far from here. And while a fire storm certainly raced across North America, and the atmosphere was filled with sunlight blocking dust for years, we really can't be certain that killed our two dinosaurs."

"Maybe there were other fragments of the meteor that hit the Colorado region," Jon tried to support Susan's idea.

"Why should there be more?" snorted Neal, "What? An extinction sized meteor isn't enough for you?"

"You know, like Comet Shoemaker-Levy," Jon tried to explain. Everyone looked at him blankly. "The comet that broke up due to gravitational stresses and all the pieces fell into Jupiter one after another? Explosions bigger than the Earth? 1994?"

Susan waved her hands at him like he was a prize on a game show, "Amateur astronomer," she labeled him as explanation.

They all smiled indulgently at him and Jon grimaced. He used to be the one teasing the scientists, how did the tables get turned on him?

Gil at least had the respect to consider his idea thoughtfully. "That's an interesting suggestion, Jon. I wonder if anyone's ever looked for crater evidence in the area?"

Trying to defend himself, Jon added more details, "When it's raining fire in the sky, you don't care who you're with. You just run for the best shelter you can find. I bet that's how those different kinds of dinosaurs ended up together in the cave." He shuddered with his own memories of the bombardment of Edora and surviving the meteor shower on the asteroid the goa'uld had tried to use as another extinction event on the Earth. "Even when you can't hear them, you feel the ground shake with their impact. Never knowing if the fates have one heading right on top of you." Suddenly, he realized he said too much and forced a laugh, "Good imagination, huh?"

Everyone laughed, except Susan who looked at him suspiciously.

"You think dinosaurs were smart enough to seek shelter like that," asked Mindy. "I always thought they were dumb and blundering."

"New theories point to them being quite active, perhaps warm blooded and quite birdlike in much of their inferred behavior," explained Dr. Moore. "Of course, trying to piece together their lifestyle from fragments of bones, nests and footprints is like trying to reconstruct a mansion from a brick, a board and a nail, but we do have some evidence."

"Even if most of them were too stupid to work together to survive," Jon couldn't help but think of most of the politicians he had ever met, "surely some of them were smarter than the average bear."

"Average bear?" wondered Susan.

"Yogi," he explained. She just looked blankly at him. "Yogi Bear? Cartoon?" She shook her head in confusion and Jon sighed, his age was showing again. Luckily he was saved further embarrassment as the waitress arrived with drinks and began taking their order for dinner, and the conversation turned to other topics.

Following dinner, they wandered over to the other side of the building to listen to the music that started up about half way into their meal. Luckily there were still some tables free near the stage and they quickly settled around three of them. The rockabilly band was playing a smattering of country and old rock and roll covers. The lead singer launched into a pretty credible rendition of "Blue Eye's Crying in the Rain" Willie Nelson's old hit and Gil held out his hand to Keiko, "Shall we?" he invited. She nodded and they waltzed off onto the dance floor holding each other tighter and tighter as the song wore on.

Mindy scooted her chair closer to Jon's and leaned up to his ear to talk, "What did you say to them?" she demanded pointing in the direction of the two snuggling professors.

"Just pointed out the obvious," he deadpanned.

"Matchmaker," she teased.

He held up his hands innocently, "Not good with the touchy, feely stuff. Not my specialty. Now, blowing things up on the other hand," he laughed trying to cover the truthfulness of his statement.

She laughed back and grabbed his hands as the music picked up the beat, "How good are you at the two step? Come on," and she pulled him out onto the dance floor.

A good half hour later, he dropped breathlessly into one of the open chairs and jealousy eyed one of the older students' beers. Instead, he drained his ice water and leaned back to watch Stan and Robert dancing with Susan and Mindy. They gyrated and shimmied as a group to a rock song and all laughed happily when Robert started doing the twist. Over to the side, Derrick and Ashley danced awkwardly as the football player tried to apply his one dance move, the two step, to the wrong beat. Jon couldn't help wincing in sympathy when the big lug stepped on Ashley's foot and clearly exasperated, she threw up her hands and walked off the dance floor.

"I'm sorry, Ashley. I'm sorry, okay," the poor fellow pleaded following in her wake.

She stood by the middle table, took a long swallow from her drink and then looked coolly over at Derrick standing contritely at her side. "I'm sorry, Derrick. It has become painfully obvious to me that we are definitely NOT compatible," she announced.

"What?" he spluttered, "You're breaking up with me over a little toe mashing?"

"It's just the last straw. I'm sorry, but you're just not my type," she plopped in a chair, folded her arms and looked away from him at the band, clearly giving him the big brush off.

Crestfallen, Derrick dropped into his own chair and ignored looks of sympathy from his friend Dwain. He cast glances at Ashley and as she studiously ignored him, his blood pressure was clearly going up, as his face colored red. "I need a beer," and he grabbed Neal's from across the table draining it in one long chug.

"Hey," protested the grad student delegated to the jock table since so far they had tolerated him.

"Go get some more," Derrick growled as he set the empty glass on the table.

'Yep. Trouble,' Jon thought to himself, remembering his first assessment of Ashley. He studied her profile wondering what circumstances had made her so selfish and mean spirited. He wasn't expecting her to turn suddenly and stare right back at him. Her eyes narrowed like a cat on the hunt and he couldn't help gulping involuntarily. It was like that damn Tokra Anise all over again. How could he get out of this one?

Fortunately, Stan and Susan walked in between them and Stan picked up his beer for a quick drink, "Your turn with the whirling dervishes, Jon," he announced. Susan smiled brightly and Jon jumped up happily with the escape opportunity. They waltzed off together on one of the slower songs.

Out on the dance floor, he felt strangely giddy, almost drunk, although he hadn't had anything to really drink for months. Not since Daniel had sent him his favorite whisky at Christmas. He smiled sadly. The Space Monkey had been the only one of his old team to even half remember him it seemed, but he had still appreciated the gesture. The old music made his memories of high school dances, and officer socials, and dating Sara before they were married all come to the surface.

"Are you okay, Jon?" Susan asked as he slowed down.

He forced a big smile and focused on the beat of the music, trying to keep the parade of women in his mind from displacing the lovely dance partner he actually held in his arms. Could he ever catch a break from his past?

Suddenly, a slim hand tapped on his hand resting on Susan's shoulder, "Can I cut in?" asked a falsely sweet voice. They turned a quarter turn to see Ashley standing there expectantly, "Don't go hogging the only good dancer all night long, Susan," she scolded good naturedly, "My turn," and she turned a glowing smile on Jon.

"Sure," Susan stepped away slightly out of breath, "I'm getting tired anyway."

'NO!' screamed Jon in his mind.

"Great," Ashley stepped close to him. The slow song ended and he breathed a sigh of relief as the band broke into "Johnny B Good" and Jon knew he was saved.

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Jack caught Sam as she twirled back and he slipped his hands around her trim waist. She felt so right. He was suddenly sorry the slow song had ended. Maybe they'd stay on the dance floor awhile he smirked to himself.

He twirled her away again with the rhythm of the song and was startled to hear someone scream "NO" loudly from behind . He stumbled and turned awkwardly to look behind him, but the other dancers continued happily oblivious. He shot a glance at Daniel and Teal'c who were talking to each other and not even looking his way. Strange.

"Jack?" Sam whispered worriedly.

He plastered a fake smile on his face and stepped back into the beat of the song, "Sorry, just an old man losing my feet," he lied.

"Want to sit down," she asked.

"No way," he replied heartily and spun her off in a pirouette at the end of his arm, only to pull her back in again like his favorite human yoyo. This was his night off and he was determined to enjoy it fully. He unleashed a full smile on her and she couldn't help but beam radiantly back at him.

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Jon liked the swing dance and found Ashley to be surprisingly agile partner. Mindy and Susan hadn't learned it and he had given up on them earlier, but started throwing more complex moves on Ashley and had to admit pleasure when she kept up with him. He hadn't had this much fun dancing since his days with Sara and somehow a full smile broke out with the memory.

Ashley mistakenly thought it was for her, and beamed happily back.

He spun her off in a pirouette, and as she twirled, her blond hair whipping past her face, she looked just like Sam. His heart panged with regret. He had never been dancing with Sam. Never trusted himself. Stupid. At least he'd have had the memories.

His body moved without thinking as he brought Ashley back in close and then spun her out again. The lights and music and girl all got tangled together in his mind. He would have sworn the world's most brilliant, fearless and beautiful Lieutenant Colonel was dancing in his arms.

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Jack felt an intense pang of regret and bittersweet longing for just one dance with Sam. He shook his head slightly to clear his foggy brain. Funny, two beers never used to be enough to get him tipsy. He focused on Sam's delighted face and felt his emotions soar. Like some kind of roller coaster ride, he sped from depressed to delighted in a heartbeat and actually sang along joyfully with the music.

Sam giggled and joined him in the chorus, "Go, go! Go, Johnny Go! Johnny B Good!"

Jack was intensely aware of every sensation as he lived in the raw moment. The beating of his heart in sync with the pulsing music surrounding him. The swirling colors of other dancers creating a Jackson Pollock background to the single thing in focus. Sam's lovely face. The feel of her silky dress contrasting with the calluses on her hands from years of holding a gun. The smell of her sweat mingling with her pear scented shampoo that had been that distinctive "Carter" smell for so many missions together. Jack hadn't been so giddy since the birth of his son. He had finally gotten past the guilt over Charlie's accidental death and could remember the good times with joy. For a blessed moment in time, life was good. He wanted the song to last forever.

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Jon was so giddy that he gave up even trying to understand it. Dancing with Ashley seemed like the most important moment in his life, even though up until now he had been rather contemptuous of her. It was the strangest feeling of déjà vu and yet not. She had the blond hair, and basic slim build, but more importantly, when he closed his eyes, she smelled like Sam. When he closed his eyes, the room seemed closer and the music echoed less, and the band actually played better. When he closed his eyes, it seemed like the woman in his arms was Sam. And he wanted the song to last forever.

He was forced to open his eyes to twirl her and the music expanded again to fill a large warehouse. He pulled her back into his arms and closed his eyes again, desperate for the illusion. He stopped dancing and simply held on to her tightly, "Sam," he breathed longingly.

He felt her stiffen in his arms and blinked in confusion as Ashley's irate face came into focus. She wiggled her hips out of his hands and pushed on his chest to separate them as the music came to an end. "Just who do you think I am?" she said with annoyance.

Suddenly, Derrick was standing right there as well. Watching them dance had not reduced his blood pressure at all. In fact, he was working himself well into a jealous rage. "What do you think you're doing? Throwing yourself on the girls again?"

Ashley interrupted, "He thought I was his boyfriend!"

"No, I…" Jon was confused and beginning to worry he was losing it.

"Insult my girl, will you?" Derrick grabbed Jon's shoulder and threw a solid right hook into Jon's jaw that sent him spinning.

Unprepared for a fight, Jon lost his balance and fell heavily to the floor and hit the back of his head with a thud. Sam's concerned face suddenly appeared. He fluttered his eyelids open at the crowd beginning to gather and deliberately closed his eyes seeking the alternative of his visions and then passed out completely.

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Jack grinned as he gave Sam a last twirl and pulled her close to him as the song ended, praying this time for a slow song. Suddenly, his head was ringing like he'd just been socked one in the jaw and he staggered. Sam clutched at him trying to support his weight and he dimly registered her concerned face.

What the hell was happening?

They slowly sagged to the ground, Jack sitting awkwardly on the dance floor and Sam kneeling between his legs. "Jack? Sir?" she demanded with worry.

He reached a hand up to the back of his head as a dull headache blossomed there. He closed his eyes briefly and seemed to be looking up a strange faces leaning over him. Snapping his eyes open again he stared at Sam's concerned face.

His hand moved on its own accord and reached up to pet the side of her head. His long fingers intertwined with the hair behind her ear while his thumb softly stroked her cheek. "Sam, I missed you so much," he whispered huskily.

She looked surprised but didn't pull away. She touched her fingertips to his face, "Jack? What's the matter?"

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Jon stared at Sam's face. She seemed so amazingly real. He reached up to pet the side of her head. His long fingers intertwined with the hair behind her ear while his thumb softly stroked her cheek. She felt so amazingly real. "Sam, I missed you so much," he whispered huskily.

'For crying out loud! Are we connected AGAIN?' a voice demanded.

Jon froze and thought a hesitant, 'Jack?'

'Shit!' his own voice echoed in his head. 'What mess did you get into this time?'

'It's not my fault,' Jon protested. "You've been sending me thoughts of her all night!'

The two looked out of the same pair of eyes at the very concerned face of Sam. She was reaching her fingertips to touch their face lightly, "Jack? What's the matter?"

"I'm here," Jon seized control of what used to be his body, afraid the connection was going to end soon. "I love you Samantha Carter," he declared and pulled her in for a passionate kiss.

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Jack heard himself say, "Sam, I missed you so much." While it was true, there was no way he would have ever admitted it to her. A niggling suspicion formed in the back of his mind. He'd been getting little images all night long. There was only one explanation. Jon. 'For crying out loud! Are we connected AGAIN?' he demanded.

'Jack?'

'Shit!' Jack exclaimed in exasperation. His wonderful evening was taking a big downward spiral. 'What mess did you get into this time?'

'It's not my fault,' Jon protested. "You've been sending me thoughts of her all night!'

The two looked out of the same pair of eyes at the very concerned face of Sam. She was reaching her fingertips to touch their face lightly, "Jack? What's the matter?"

Jack listened in amazement to his own voice declare his love for Sam. He was shocked when he felt his lips connecting to hers. But he was even more amazed when she started kissing him back. He finally exerted his will and gained back control of his body, pulling his head away from hers and gasping for breath. He looked up from her moist, willing lips to her clear, blue eyes. "That was him. This is me," he whispered and kissed her again tenderly and reverently.

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TBC….oh, evil I know, but really, this chapter is getting too long. I sincerely hope to finish soon, only 3 more points on the original outline after all. It's just the pesky characters keep talking so much and the muses make me type it all….LOL! 'Til next time!


	11. Not Again

Younger than a Dinosaur

Chapter Eleven: Not Again

by Leanne Scott

Summary: What does mini Jack do over summer vacation?

Disclaimer: I don't own him or the other Stargate characters, yada, yada. But all the rest of the characters were given to me by the writing muse fairy.

Dear Readers, I'm sorry I've taken so long to post again. Last fall was totally consumed with organizing a Girl Scout campout for 450 people! I really want to thank those of you who emailed encouragement to finish this story. Because of you, I started writing again over the holidays and so now about 6 weeks later, I finally have something to offer you. I hope you enjoy this chapter and I will try to complete this story in more timely fashion!

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Daniel watched his two friends out on the dance floor for a few minutes, then turned to Teal'c with a slightly guilty expression, "We should have come and visited him sooner. I hadn't realized how subdued Sam had gotten."

"We have been busy dealing with the Ori," observed Teal'c.

"Still, Jack would have found a way to make her laugh, or at least smile, even in the middle of a battle. I should have noticed Sam was so serious."

"She is a focused scientist and dutiful warrior," praised Teal'c.

Daniel winced and snorted back, "Duty. That's what keeps the both of them unhappy."

Teal'c stared thoughtfully at the couple dancing and singing with each other, completely oblivious to everyone around them. "Do not your Tauri laws allow them to be together now that he is stationed at another place?"

"Unfortunately, no. Since Jack is the General in charge of all off-world operations, technically, he is still in her chain of command." Daniel locked frustrated eyes with Teal'c willing him to understand.

Teal'c raised an eyebrow, but his reply was forgotten as erroneous movement on the dance floor caught his eye. As Jack collapsed, he stood and knocked the chair over in his haste to get around the table. Daniel reacted only moments behind and they rushed over to help Sam.

They arrived just as Jack caressed her face and whispered, "Sam, I missed you so much."

Daniel leaned down to help just as she touched her fingertips to Jack's face and asked, "Jack? What's the matter?"

He straightened back up again in surprise when they pulled together in a passionate kiss, "Whoa!" he exclaimed. He looked over at Teal'c now standing on the other side and cracked a big grin. Finally!

He was close enough to hear Jack whisper, "That was him. This is me," before leaning in for a second tender kiss.

Daniel frowned with sudden apprehension, "What?" He looked over at Teal'c now in worry. "Did he just say, that was him, this is me?"

Teal'c no longer looked amused and his face turned grave as he knelt on one knee and reached a big hand under their chins and pushed Jack back and away from Sam, "O'Neill!" his voice like a cold bucket of water. Jack blinked and tried to focus on Teal'c's face. "Do you require assistance? What has come over you?"

Daniel reached down to pull Sam up from her knees and studied her flushed face with equal concern, "What's come over you?"

Sam blinked at him in confusion, then looked down at Jack still sitting on the floor and looking equally dazed at Teal'c. Her eyes widened and she touched her fingers to her mouth as she turned beet red, "Oh my God, oh my God!" she exclaimed and twirled away running to the ladies room.

Daniel wasn't usually the take charge kind of guy, but he knew they needed to get out of this very public restaurant and find a nice quiet place to have a private conversation. "Take him to the car. I'll pay and bring her along in a few minutes," he ordered. Teal'c nodded once in agreement and bodily hauled Jack to his feet, more carrying than leading the dazed man out the door.

Daniel smiled reassuringly at the manager that had suddenly appeared and gestured to the bar, "Perhaps we should make room for the other patrons to continue their dance?"

The man smiled gratefully and waved fluttering hands at the onlookers, "Nothing to worry about. Just a little too much to drink, yes. Everyone is fine. Kenny?" he looked over at the band leader meaningfully and instantly the band launched into a new tune. The people returned to their dining and dancing, the momentary spectacle already fading into a small blip in their evening.

Scowling at the drunken comment, Daniel strode over to the register at the bar and pulled a credit card from his wallet. "I'd like to pay for that table over there," he pointed. The bartender nodded and hit print on the touch screen. Quickly completing the transaction, Daniel beckoned to the waitress who had served them dinner, "Would you mind helping me get my friend out of the ladies room?"

"Sure. Had a little too much fun, huh? What's her name?" the girl responded with an air of experience as they walked over to the corner. "I'll have her out in a jiffy."

"Her name is Sam," he replied quietly. "Just tell her I'm waiting here to take her to the car," he smiled weakly. The girl nodded and disappeared behind the door. Daniel leaned against the wall and sighed, where had the evening gone wrong?

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"Be careful, watch his head," worried Susan as Stan and Robert struggled to carry Jon's lanky form through a door behind the stage.

"He's heavier than he looks," complained Robert.

"That's right, this way. Here, lay him on this couch," the manager of the Cottonwood ordered. He turned back toward them with a frown, "I don't allow any fighting in my bar. I try to run a good clean place that families can come to and enjoy," he scolded them.

The rest of the research team filed in and Dr. Gil Moore closed the door behind them immediately cutting the decibels in half as the band continued with their set. "I'm sorry Mr. ?"

"Johnson," the man snapped with a glare.

"Mr. Johnson, I want to apologize for the whole group. I'm not entirely clear what brought this on, but I assure you that…"

"I assure you, that you will not step foot in here again!" Mr. Johnson interrupted angrily.

"But we just…" Ashley started to whine.

"Shhh," Mindy grabbed her arm and pulled her aside, "Haven't you started enough trouble already," she hissed. Ashley had the sense to look chagrined.

Susan knelt by the couch and patted Jon's cheek lightly, "Jon? Jon, wake up." She pushed his head over and felt around on his skull. "He has a really big lump back here," she exclaimed with worry.

Dr. Brown leaned over Susan and pulled his eyelids up one by one, "His pupils are dilated different sizes which means he has a concussion. He needs a doctor right away!"

Mr. Johnson turned from angry to defensive, "I am not in any way responsible for his injury," he declared.

Dr. Moore raised placating hands, "Mr. Johnson, we don't want to make any more trouble. We just want to get him some medical attention. Tell us where and we'll be gone."

"The nearest hospital is in Craig, back east on I-40 about 60 miles," the man offered.

"Don't you have any doctors in town?" asked Susan worriedly.

Johnson shook his head, "With a town of less than two thousand, we can't keep one busy enough to make it worth their while to stay. No, I'm afraid you'll have to drive him to a bigger city."

"Right," announced Dr. Moore decisively, "Keiko, take everyone back to the motel in the van and stay there until I call you. I'll drive him in the Suburban."

"Not without me," declared Susan. "If you're driving, who will keep an eye on him. I'll sit in the back and make sure he's safe."

Looking down at her, Moore was about to retort that there was nothing she could do until he saw the stubborn look in her eyes. Reminding himself that she and Jon had experienced their own excitement with the mountain lion only a week ago, he realized that there was nothing he could say to dissuade her and so he nodded in agreement, "Okay, let's move people."

Mr. Johnson pointed past the backstage area to a doorway, "That leads to the office and a door out onto the parking lot."

"Thank you. Let me apologize again for the trouble we caused," Moore held out his hand.

Shaking his hand, Johnson nodded towards the unconscious young man as his friends gathered him up once more, "I hope he'll be alright. Good luck."

"Me too," agreed Moore as they filed out of the room.

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Teal'c patted O'Neill's jacket and pants pockets until he heard the jingle of keys. Retrieving them, he pushed the bob twice and was rewarded with the resounding clicks of the doors unlocking. Wedging O'Neill up against the rear panel of the car, he managed to open the rear door without dropping the man on the concrete. Then folding the tall man's head down to his chest, he deftly slid O'Neill into the backseat and slid in beside him as he propped him into the opposite corner. "What's going on?" murmured Jack.

Teal'c closed the door firmly and was glad when the lights blinked out, keeping them out of view of prying eyes. "You collapsed again, O'Neill," Teal'c informed him.

"I was dancing with Sam," Jack replied dreamily.

"You were doing more than dancing," Teal'c smirked.

"What?" Jack opened his eyes and sat up taller in the seat, then immediately moaned and grabbed the back of his head. "When did I hit my head?"

"You did not," intoned Teal'c.

O'Neill's brown eyes stared into Teal'c's as he struggled to fit all the pieces together. It was rare for O'Neill to be so vulnerable and few he would be comfortable with showing his emotions to as Teal'c. The Jaffa watched impassively as the small tells of emotion flitted over O'Neill's face, the sly smile followed by the wince of guilt, then the clenched jaw of anger. "It was Him again!" growled O'Neill.

"Him?"

"Mini-Me!"

Teal'c nodded, "General Hammond informed us of your mental connection with the young O'Neill. Do you think it has occurred again?" He kept his tone quiet and even, not wanting to upset the agitated man further.

"Damn straight, and it's going to stop!" O'Neill squeezed his eyes shut and through clenched teeth breathed out one word, "JON!" and promptly fell over unconscious into Teal'c's lap.

The normally unflappable Teal'c flinched with surprise, then reached a concerned hand to the other man's throat. He let out the breath he was holding as he felt the strong pulse and steady rhythm of O'Neill's breathing. He looked out the window at the closed door of the restaurant, "Daniel Jackson. Colonel Carter. Now would be a good time," he pleaded into the silence.

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"I'm sorry, sir," the waitress shook her head sadly. "She won't talk to me. Look, there's no one else in there at the moment, why don't you try?"

Daniel nodded and glanced around nervously, "Umm, would you stand guard out here while I get her?"

She patted his arm with a wry grin, "Don't worry, people will understand."

Pushing his glasses firmly on his nose, Daniel opened the door to the ladies room and walked toward the sniffling sound in the far stall, "Sam? Sam, it's me, Daniel." The only response was a choked sob. "It's going to be okay. Come on out so I can take you home," he coaxed.

"I'll, never, be able," sniff, "to look at him again."

"I'm sure Jack's okay," he began only to hear a fresh sob. "Please come out."

"What will everyone think of me?" she moaned

"Sam, please, you're like family to me. Nothing you do will change how much I respect you." He tried the door. "Sam, unlock the door, please, let me in."

For a moment there was no sound at all, then the scratching metal of the latch being pulled back echoed in the small room. Luckily, the door swung outward and he was able to kneel down on one knee in front of her. She slumped over with her elbows on her knees and her hands over her eyes. Silently he pulled some toilet paper off the roll and pressed it to her hands. Deftly she palmed it, covering her eyes again without ever looking up, "Why does it have to be so complicated? Why can't I just be a normal woman?" she complained.

"Because you're an extraordinary woman. Doctor of Astrophysics. Lieutenant Colonel in the Air Force. You've made more discoveries, more inventions work, saved the world more times, and led us all with a grace and spirit that has set the tone for the whole Stargate program. You know there's nothing anyone in that whole mountain wouldn't do if you told them to.

"Except live a normal life with the man I love," and she burst into sobs again.

Daniel reached out awkwardly and patted her on the back gently as she took a couple of shuddering breaths. He pulled more paper off the roll and handed it to her as she dropped the other soggy wad. "I'm sorry, Daniel. I haven't done anything this foolish since I was a teenager."

He patted her and said teasingly, "Well, it's long over due then."

She snorted into the wad and finally looked up at him with mascara streaked eyes, "How can you joke? He's going to hate me," tears threatened again as she looked completely lost.

"He adores you and you know it," Daniel scolded her.

"It's just that," she gulped, "for a moment there tonight, I felt what it would have been like. We would have been great together," Sam tried to take a breath but it came out a gasp, "We would have been the best!" and she burst into tears again.

"Sam, Sam," he soothed her by rubbing her back. "I know it isn't fair. But at least he's still here, and alive, and you can see him and talk to him." Daniel felt his own long buried grief for Sha're rise in his throat and swallowed thickly trying to keep it down.

Even in her pain, Sam was sensitive to her old teammate and she heard the hitch in his voice. "I'm sorry, Daniel. Neither of us seem to be getting what we really want in this particular universe are we?" She grabbed some more fresh paper and blew her nose.

"No, but we do make a difference," he asserted with a determined nod.

Sam stared back into his blue eyes and found a strength there that gave her hope to go on. If Daniel could survive the loss of his wife, she could survive the mere loss of being a wife. She bit the inside of her cheek to give herself a little pain to focus on and nodded back. He pushed himself off his knee and held out a hand to help her up. She took it and smiled wanly, "Let me wash my face real quick."

She splashed water on her face and scrubbed at the streaked makeup until the glamour girl of the earlier evening was replaced with the fresh face of a soldier. "I'm ready," she declared with resolution.

Daniel took her arm under his, patting her hand as he escorted her out the door, "Always and for anything," he agreed.

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Jack was completely disoriented and he didn't like it one bit. It was like being on a roller coaster out of control, and that was one thing he hated, not being in control.

This whole connecting to his younger self was like so much hippy, touchy-feely, crystal waving nonsense. He'd never bought into any of that psychic, sixth sense stuff before. He'd been a hard nosed Special Forces officer after all. But ten years of gate travel had opened his mind, apparently literally. He didn't understand what had linked him to Jon before, but he knew it could be done. So he had brashly thrown his psyche to the metaphorical wind and tried to reach out to his counterpart. The only problem was that there was no one there to grasp his outstretched hand. It was like he was trying to climb a black obsidian rock whose smooth surface gave no hand holds. He felt like he was slipping down a steep slope, conscious only of pain.

Desperate for any sense of firm ground, he twisted within his mind and reached out for the first glimmer of light he could find. It was Teal'c. He had felt Teal'c's mind before during the exchange of consciousness in Marcello's machine. He could almost taste the flavor of his alien mind, spiced with words and rituals born of other worlds. He could sense his friend's concern. They weren't really compatible and Jack couldn't talk to him like he could with Jon, but he knew Teal'c was there for him. It gave him the strength to try again, so Jack twisted again and flung himself towards another island of light.

This time he felt a stronger connection than with Teal'c, but the clarity he remembered with Jon was missing. However, he felt comfortable and familiar with this mind, like a pair of worn jeans. His senses came to him slowly like water filling a cup; temperature—warm, pressure along his back—soft, scent –floral perfume, voice near his ear—soft and feminine.

"I feel like we're twenty again. You're the sweetest, most thoughtful man. Oh, Joe…" and he felt lips nibbling along his jaw and gentle hands brushing through the hair on his chest.

His eyes sprung open as his senses finally all worked together. A plump, dark haired woman was cuddled up to him in bed and he recognized her immediately. It was Charlene, Joe Spencer's wife. Jack couldn't believe it. He had shared many experiences with this man over the years because they had both possessed the Ancient activator gene as well as an Ancient communication device, but he had made this connection all on his own. He still couldn't communicate with Joe, but he could definitely sense everything Joe did.

Jack both felt and heard the rumble of Joe's low voice, "I'm glad I'm back to normal again. I'm sorry I was so obsessed."

"I understand. It's okay now," she replied.

"He led an exciting life, but I know he was lonely. It's the simple things in life, like this," and Joe hugged her closer to his chest. "This is the best thing in my life."

Jack watched her lips descend upon Joe's and felt a stirring of desire that he had ignored for years now. Oh no, he couldn't handle this. He had to get out of Joe before things really started to heat up.

Jack mentally tore himself from warm, domestic bliss towards the cold and confusion, and hopefully to the mind he needed to connect with, 'Jon! Where are you?'

A rush of color, sound and smell assailed his senses and Jack was momentarily bewildered. 'It worked. I'm seeing through Jon again,' he thought. But this mind was full of different languages in such a jumble, he realized it couldn't be Jon, whose brain worked essentially as his own. There were uncharted depths to this mind too, glimpses of vast star fields and unending time. The closest beings to Ancients were Jon and himself because of the genetic manipulation the Asgard had performed on them. And the next closest thing was a formerly ascended being, and Jack realized he was connected to Daniel.

The connection was much more tenuous than with Joe and Jack had to concentrate to separate the sensations. The smell of soap and disinfectant was the sharpest and easiest to focus on at first, followed by the echoing sound of sobbing. Then his vision cleared and he saw Sam sitting in a bathroom stall, her face streaked with mascara as tears continued to fall. He knew he was the cause of it and couldn't bear the guilt of hurting her. So he flung himself back towards the dark mountain of pain.

A throbbing pressure mounted in his head until he felt like it would explode. But he used his anger to stay focused despite the pain and finally burst through the darkness and into sensations again. He could hear the humming of a car engine and feel the vibrations of the wheels. The back of his head was freezing cold while the inside was searing hot with a pain worse that any gou'ald ribbon device he'd ever been tortured with. Jack rode the waves of pain like a surfer narrowly avoiding a jagged reef waiting below the surface of the sea.

It took several minutes for him to time the rhythm of his breaths and he utilized techniques he'd learned during black ops training to compartmentalize the pain. Eventually, he was able to float above it and pay attention to his other senses again. Listening was easy, since it required little effort except concentrating on the voices.

"Professor? His breathing is getting slower," a worried female voice said.

"He might be going into shock," a deeper voice replied. "Check his temperature, Susan."

A hand was pressed on his forehead and stroked lightly down his cheek. "He's still warm, but feels a little clammy," she replied.

"I'm already going 85. I really don't want to go faster on an unfamiliar road at night. We just have to pray that we get him to a doctor in time," Professor Moore mused. "What did Brown say about concussions again?"

"That your eyes dilate differently?" Susan tried to recall.

"Are they getting worse? Here, I'll turn the overhead lights on for you," Moore offered.

Jack felt fingertips on his eyes and then was blinded by light. Years of exams by Dr. Janet Fraser flashed in his memory as he remembered her penchant for shining a penlight in his eyes. A head bent loser and he made out the concerned features of a pretty girl. He tried to speak or move his head, but his body refused to cooperate.

"Hmm, I've never done this before," Susan shifted her gaze back and forth as she studied his eyes, "but the left one is definitely bigger than the right one."

"I guess he hit his head pretty hard on that concrete floor. Flip that ice pack around and make sure it's cooling that bump. We need to keep the swelling down," Moore advised.

The fingers let go and Jack was plunged into darkness again, unable to open his eyes. He felt the girl's hands brushing back his hair and then cold on the back of his head again. 'Okay then,' Jack decided, 'I've made it to Jon. That was the girl laughing at the mountain lion. And a head injury would explain a lot. But I'm still mad at him. Jon, oh Jon, come out, come out where ever you are,' Jack mentally called out.

There was no reply.

'Jon?' he tried again, 'JON!'

A glimmer of response moaned, 'ow.'

Jack finally realized he was able to float above the pain because Jon was down in it, trapped like a swimmer with his foot caught in jagged coral. 'I'll see what I can do,' Jack sent a mental reassurance and turned his attention inward as the sounds and sensations from the car faded. 'Healing a leaking artery in the brain can't be any harder than mending a broken arm,' Jack mused as he began his work.

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Sam mustered all her years of military training and plastered a neutral expression on her face as she squashed all her emotions away to be dealt with at another time. Privately. She followed Daniel outside and towards the parked sedan, hoping he would take the lead in talking to Jack. She didn't begin to know what to say.

The car's back door opened and a worried Teal'c leaned out, "O'Neill is unconscious."

She trotted behind Daniel as he burst into a run and pressed against his back trying to look into the car. Jack was bonelessly slumped in the corner of the backseat, his head lolling at an awkward angle against the window.

"What happened?" demanded Daniel.

"O'Neill blamed his younger clone and then collapsed," Teal'c explained. "Should we not return him to the hospital we found him in this morning?"

"NO!" exclaimed Sam in Daniel's ear, and she felt his shoulder jerk at the sound. "I mean," she continued in a quieter voice, "this is obviously a problem due to his Ancient gene, and I think the only people who could truly help are the Asgard. We need to get him to the SGC."

Teal'c looked up thoughtfully and then simply inclined his head in agreement.

Daniel, however, turned with a frown, "How can we get him on a plane unconscious? People will ask questions."

Sam stared back in Daniel's eyes. He was right. They needed a plan. She looked back in the car at Jack slumped over, wishing he was conscious. He would have come up with a wild, seat of your pants idea.

And then one came to her.

She tipped her head to the side as she considered the ramifications. Then shrugged as she came to a decision, "We crossed that line out on the dance floor," she muttered.

"Excuse me?" Daniel asked not hearing clearly.

She looked back into his face and drew herself to her full height, "Daniel, drive us back to Jack's house. We need to pack our things and get Jack into his uniform," she ordered.

"Uniform?" Daniel echoed.

But Sam ignored him as she pulled a cell phone out of her purse and walked around the hood of the car to get into the front passenger seat, "I'll call ahead to the air field," she replied in determination.

The ride back to Jack's house was quick and quiet except for the call ordering a plane to be readied for General O'Neill on urgent business. Daniel was busy trying to navigate in an unfamiliar city, Teal'c was normally taciturn, and Sam stared out the window brooding. Her reverie was broken as the car bounced over the curb and Daniel parked in the driveway. She took a deep breath and let it out with a sigh as she leaned over to pull the keys out of the ignition, "I'll open the front door. Help Teal'c," she ordered.

Daniel opened his mouth to speak, but one look at her face made him simply nod in agreement. Whatever Sam was planning, it was as serious as any off-world mission they'd had. By the time he and Teal'c had eased O'Neill out of the backseat, Sam had opened the door and disappeared into the townhouse. They half carried, half drug him into the house and back to the master bedroom where they found Sam pulling Jack's uniform out of the closet.

It was relatively easy stripping off his clothes, but reversing the process was much more difficult. They both stuck one foot into each side of the pants, but pulling up was hard as he lay on the bed. So Teal'c ended up holding onto Jack's limp body around the waist, while Daniel wrestled the slacks up. Sam finished unbuttoning the shirt and handed it to Daniel trying not to look at Jack's bare chest. Teal'c balanced him in a sitting position on the edge of the bed and Daniel slid one arm into a sleeve, but the second arm refused to cooperate. Jack's completely limp body kept lolling to the side and when they tried to pull the shirt back to put the second arm in, then the first would fall out.

"Where'd his shoes go?," Sam muttered as she leaned over at the end of the bed looking for them under the spread.

Growing impatient, Teal'c forced the second arm backwards at an awkward angle but Daniel lost his grip. O'Neill slid sideways, the opposite arm flinging out and his hand slapped Sam on the rear as he fell off the bed. Both Teal'c and Daniel flung themselves to try to catch Jack and instead bashed their heads together and fell onto the bed in a heap.

"Hey!" Sam cried out in surprise as she straightened and looked at the heap of men. Suddenly, the situation was a lot less serious and a lot more humorous than she had been imagining it and she burst out laughing. The evening had been an emotional roller coaster for her and she couldn't stop herself as she fell onto the bed as well laughing hysterically. Soon all three were in paroxysms of laughter, even Teal'c, using it as a release from all the tension that had been building up.

They sorted themselves out and sat on the bed in a row looking down at their half dressed commanding officer crumpled in a heap at their feet. "Okay, give," Daniel said as he managed to get his breath back.

Sam coughed and tried to catch her breath, "Well, you know I'm an Air Force brat. I've seen a lot of things officers have gotten away with over the years."

Daniel looked at her with raised eyebrows, "So your plan is….?"

Sam blushed a bit and looked down, "To be in the back seat of the car, kissing the General whenever we go through a check point or get questioned."

"You will?" Daniel asked incredulously.

She looked back up and tried to shrug nonchalantly, "It's only a cover. Generally, lower rank men will pretend they didn't see anything, rather than get an officer in trouble. They won't ask the General anything if he is obviously otherwise engaged."

"Logical," commented Teal'c.

"Yeah, but someone is going to have talk to the guards," objected Daniel.

"You'll have to smooth things over as his 'Aide'," she said putting air quotations around the word.

"Thanks," Daniel responded dryly.

"How will you get him on the plane?" Teal'c asked.

"That's your job," she replied turning to look at the man sitting on her other side, "You're the body guard that helps your drunken superior officer into his seat, while we cover. I hope," she shrugged. "It's not much, but it's a plan.

"Then we must do our best," Teal'c intoned as he nodded agreement to the plan.

Sam looked expectantly at Daniel and couldn't help but grin when he responded with her other teammate's favorite expression. "Indeed."

TBC: Sooner than later I hope!


	12. That By Any Other Name

Younger than a Dinosaur

Chapter Twelve: That By Any Other Name…

by Leanne Scott

Summary: What does mini Jack do over summer vacation?

Disclaimer: I don't own him or the other Stargate characters, yada, yada. But all the rest of the characters were given to me by the writing muse fairy.

Sorry once again for the long delay between chapters. I'm truly not a fast writer, but I appreciate your encouraging comments and hope you enjoy this next installment!

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Sam glanced nervously over at the man's profile at her side and then set her eyes resolutely out the front windshield again. Bad idea, she thought.

"Sam, we're coming up on the first gate," Daniel announced unnecessarily.

Not deigning to reply, Sam swallowed hard and began to rearrange both herself and her backseat companion. The street lights illuminated his face for longer periods of time as Daniel slowed the car. Relaxed in apparent sleep, Jack's face looked younger than she remembered. She brushed his hair back on his forehead almost surprised at how soft it was. Here was a man that was one of the finest soldiers she had ever met, both cunning and fierce in his resolve. It seemed incongruous to her that he could be soft.

Bad, bad idea, she told herself.

She took a deep breath and grasped his left arm and tucked his hand back under her right arm and wiggled her shoulder under his to turn him to face her and put his back to the window. The guard couldn't get a clear look at his face if this was going to work, or it would be obvious that he was unconscious. As the car coasted to a stop, Sam flung her left arm up over his right shoulder and entwined her fingers in his hair at the nape of his neck to hold his face in position and began kissing General Jack O'Neill, her superior officer, while he was unconscious.

Oh, bad, bad, bad idea, she scolded herself.

Although, to tell the truth, his lips were rather soft and pliable and tasted lightly of the dinner they had just had. It was a nice sensation, although it would be more fun if he was kissing back. 'I did NOT just think that!' she scolded herself again. His head turned just a little bit in her hand, but she ignored it as she was trying to hear what Daniel was saying to the gate guard.

"General O'Neill's car going to the airfield," Daniel announced confidently.

Sam tried to peek over Jack's shoulder at the guard, but could only see his hands and clipboard. She could see Daniel pass the guard their military ID cards and the hands splay the cards out into a fan as he bent down to match their faces to those on the cards. This is it, she thought, and closed her eyes as she threw herself into the role of the passionate girlfriend. She didn't notice when it stopped being one sided.

The hand that had been tucked behind her was now caressing her back and side. Lips nibbled back and soft kisses turned fiery as they escalated into a tongue duel. Lost in sensation, Sam moaned and then gasped for air before pressing her lips back to his.

"Sam? We're past the guard," Daniel's voice washed over her like a bucket of ice water.

She opened her eyes and realized that the car was moving again as the light from a street light strafed over Jack's face. His dark eyes glittered back at her passionately, but when he blinked they looked back in confusion. Pulling his hand away from her side, he reached up to stroke her cheek with his long fingers, "Sam?" he repeated. She nodded mutely. Suddenly his eyes rolled up in his head and he went completely limp again. Sam gasped in surprise as she clutched him to keep him from sliding down to the floor boards.

Insanely bad idea, she thought to herself.

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Jack came slowly to consciousness. The combination of searching for a connection to Jon, and then repairing his injury had left him both physically and mentally exhausted. His internal clock told him that many hours had past, but he was disoriented. He expected to be laying in a hospital bed again, but he was seated upright and felt the rolling motion of a car. Just as it was lulling him back to a deep sleep, he felt hands pulling and pushing him around. A warm, soft body entwined with his and the soft floral scent relaxed him as it evoked years of memories of a certain beautiful woman. Oh yeah, this was a good dream.

Fingers threaded through his hair seductively and he moved slightly to shift the wrist pressing his collar uncomfortably. He stilled as the sensation of soft lips pressed onto his and then slowly began to respond with kisses of his own. His body was on autopilot as he caressed his dream girl. Part of his mind reveled in the sensations, while the other logical side scolded him for indulging in a fantasy he had long since realized was an impossibility. The demands of duty and honor had killed any such hope of a real relationship and a dream like this would only be self torture in the end.

The salty taste of her lips, the warm breath on his cheek, and the quiet moan of pleasure were just so damn realistic. It was hard to let this dream go.

"Sam? We're past the guard," Daniel's voice washed over him like a bucket of ice water.

Jack snapped to full consciousness in a heartbeat. He opened his eyes to find a flushed Sam Carter staring back at him. This was real? He blinked to clear his eyes of the mirage, but she stayed. He gently touched her cheek to test her reality. Impossible. "Sam?" he asked in disbelief. The mirage nodded yes. No, no, no, he thought furiously. This is wrong. I'm not in the right body. I have to get back in the right place! He threw himself mentally out along the link he had forged to Jon.

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Dr. Cummings looked up from medical journal he was reading as headlights swept across and emergency room doors. His shift had been quiet since he'd reported for duty at seven and he had hoped to catch up on some of his reading. Family practice at a small, rural hospital was turning out to be a lot more active than he thought it was going to be. A middle aged man sprung from the driver's side and through the motion sensitive doors before the doctor could even stand up.

"I have an unconscious student here. We're going to need help moving him inside," Dr. Gil Moore announced, glancing back worriedly at Susan and Jon in the car.

Cummings reached for his stethoscope with one hand and toggled the switch for the intercom with his other, "Staff to ER, stat," he ordered. Smoothly he pushed away from the desk and snagged a gurney stored against the wall and rolled it out the doors. Gil threw open the passenger door, and Susan looked out with big, worried eyes. Cummings could see that she was cradling an ice pack under a young man's head and he reached across her to feel for a pulse on Jon's neck. His fingers quickly found a strong, steady beat and he didn't see any blood anywhere. "Don't worry. He's going to be fine," he announced confidently smiling at the girl and backing away from the door to help her out. Two orderlies were already opening the other door and working on sliding Jon out onto the waiting gurney. In no time at all they had all swept into an examining room and Cummings was fingering a small, very cold bump on the back of Jon's head. "When did this occur?" he asked.

"I guess we've been driving about 45 minutes, so just over an hour ago," Susan offered.

"There was a misunderstanding out on the dance floor. Jon got punched and fell to the ground, hitting his head on the concrete. He was disoriented and then passed out. My colleague thought it might be a serious concussion when she saw that his eyes were dilated different sizes so we thought we should drive here," Gil finished explaining how Jon had hit his head.

Cummings reached for his penlight and pried open an eye lid and watched the pupil respond normally as he flicked the light over, "Hmm," he responded noncommittally, clearly no concussion. People watch a few medical shows and think they're doctors, he thought with exasperation.

The flash of light in Jon's eye brought him around and he turned his head away from the offending brightness. "Stop, Doc," he mumbled. His mind was a jumble of memories and he was having trouble remembering what happened.

Cummings grasped his chin and turned his head back to check the other eye, but was surprised as Jon's hand gripped his wrist firmly and dark eyes glared up at him. "Where's Janet?" Jon demanded.

Cummings tried to pull away and let Jon see the girl standing off to the side, assuming that she must be who he was speaking of, but Jon tightened his grip just sort of breaking the doctor's wrist. "Doctor Frazier?" Jon asked slowly.

Cummings shook his head slowly, "She's not here. I'm Dr. Cummings. I'm here to help you. You hit your head and got knocked out," he explained carefully.

A shadow passed over Jon's face as he remembered Janet had been killed. "Right," he said sadly and let go of the doctor's wrist dropping his hand to his forehead and wincing as he tried to make sense of his memories. He mostly remembered a sea of pain and his head feeling like it would explode. The last time he had felt like that was when he had been held captive by Ba'al. Adrenalin filled him and he struggled to push up, looking wildly around the room suspiciously. The doctor backed away quickly and he saw Gil and Susan standing on the side looking concerned.

Gil took two steps closer holding his hands out, "It's alright Jon. You're in the hospital. Let them help you."

"Who? What?" Jon struggled to put the pieces together wincing as he concentrated. He'd been cloned. His name was Jon now. He didn't work at the SGC anymore. Just as everything clicked in place, he felt a prick in his arm and felt the burn of sedative. He looked at the doctor in betrayal and couldn't help it as he collapsed back on the mattress.

"He seemed very agitated and in pain," Dr. Cummings explained waving the syringe slightly. Really he'd been more worried about their own safety. No wonder this guy was getting into fights, he was paranoid. But it still was his job to help. "Now we can take some x-rays and do some tests," he continued. "Why don't you two wait out in the lounge?"

An hour later, the doctor walked out holding an x-ray. Susan had been nursing a cup of coffee more to warm up her hand than to drink it, and quickly set it down, "Is Jon okay?"

Cummings nodded and looked around the room, "Where's your teacher?"

"Oh, he left to get gas and find a motel us for the night. He said he'd be back as soon as he could. So, is Jon okay?" she repeated.

"Yes, the x-ray shows a small fracture where the bump is but it is completely healed. Perhaps it is an old one coincidentally in the same spot. I'm more worried about his paranoid behavior. Has he displayed any violent behavior recently?"

Susan smiled nervously. What should she say? Why, yes, he killed a mountain lion with his bare hands just last week? And then he miraculously cured both himself and me of mortal wounds? Oh, yeah, that would go over big. Besides, she wasn't sure if she believed her own memories. Although, she felt sure he had some extraordinary ability to heal himself quickly, and that his skull fracture had indeed healed in just over an hour.

"Ahem" the doctor interrupted her thoughts.

She shook her head, "No, he's never displayed violence. In fact, he's very protective and even saved my friend last week from a bad accident when we were unloading the truck." She smiled confidently, "He's a good friend. Can I see Jon now?"

"Well, he's sedated and should be asleep for several hours, so it should be safe enough."

Susan bristled at the doctor's insinuation, "He was disoriented earlier," she protested.

Cummings unconsciously rubbed his wrist and shook his head, "You didn't see his eyes. I think I should order psychological testing after he wakes up tomorrow."

She opened her mouth to protest, but smiled sweetly instead. She was sure Jon would pass everything with flying colors and then they could leave without a fuss. She should have realized he'd be okay and never helped bring him to this hospital in the first place. She gazed expectantly up at the doctor.

"Okay, his room is this way," Cummings gestured and led the way down the hall.

They had placed Jon in a double room, although no one was in the other bed. He looked very young and peaceful tucked in the blankets. She walked up to the bed and patted him on the arm realizing they had changed him into a hospital gown as part of their ministrations. "Don't worry, we'll have you better in no time," she said.

The doctor had led her to believe he would be unconscious, so she couldn't help but exclaim and step back when Jon's eyes suddenly popped open and he turned toward her, "Where?" he asked hoarsely.

"You' re in the hospital. You bumped your head, but you're going to be fine," she stepped back to reassure him.

His eyes blinked furiously trying to focus on her, "Not Sam?" he asked.

"No, I'm Susan," she replied reaching out to pat him again.

"Dream," he muttered, "weird dream."

She was about to reassure him again, when Dr. Cummings pushed her aside and quickly swabbed his arm injecting another syringe full of sedative into Jon. "He's got the metabolism of an ox. There, that should help him rest through the night."

"Doctor! Was that necessary?" Susan demanded.

Cummings looked with contempt at the young women. What did she know about medicine? "Absolutely," he replied taking a deep calming breath. "What everyone needs is a good night's rest. Especially our patient. So let's leave him to it," and he led her out the door.

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Jon woke up when he felt the plane bounce on the runway. The roar of engines ceased being a background noise and focused his attention as the brakes whined bringing the plane to a smooth roll. He felt it taxi and turn and lurch to a stop, but refused to open his eyes. He was playing possum until he knew better what was happening to him. The last thing he could remember was being in a hospital and Dr. Moore reassuring him before some doctor gave him a shot. So how did he get on a plane? Had the Trust somehow found him out?

He could feel a safety belt cinched around his hips, but didn't think he was tied down. He experimentally rolled his wrists slightly and could tell there weren't any handcuffs, nor were his feet shackled in any way. Whoever had taken him, did not expect him to put up any resistance. That gave him the element of surprise. He cracked one eyelid and made out a big shape seated one seat away. Hmm, could be a problem, but not if his timing was right. Rustling of fellow passengers unbuckling and gathering their things emboldened him to crack his eye further trusting in the distraction of his captors. A large black man was in the aisle seat trapping him in. Jon couldn't make out his face as he was turned away looking over his other shoulder at someone across the aisle. The man began to shift back towards him, so Jon quickly closed his eyes again and forced himself to go limp as if unconscious.

The sounds of moving people quickly faded away. There must not have been many people on the plane. Then a familiar voice asked behind him, "Now?" There was rustling from the big man at the end of the aisle and Jon felt hands reach over his shoulders from the seat behind and undo his seat belt. This is it, Jon thought. Sensing the presence of the two men surrounding him, he threw his arms up, catching their necks in his hands and bashed their heads together. Simultaneously, he kicked off with his feet and then pushed them away as hard as he could. Opening his eyes, he barely glanced at the back man sprawled beside him. Realizing he couldn't go that way, he threw himself sideways over the row of seats in front of him. The armrests bruised his shoulder and hips, but he rolled to get his feet under him and managed to take two running steps down the aisle when a lithe body tackled him from behind.

Jon grabbed a thin wrist and twisted his shoulders intending to throw off his attacker when he heard a shout.

"O'Neill!" yelled Teal'c.

Jon froze and stared in disbelief as Teal'c lunged forward, followed by Daniel Jackson holding his hand to his forehead. He looked down his own hand twisting a decidedly feminine arm just shy of breaking it, and up the arm to Sam's shocked face.

"Sam!" he squeaked and dropped her arm "How? Where?" Relief flooded through him and an enormous grin covered his face, "I knew you guys would never leave me behind!"

"What do you remember, sir?" asked Sam hesitantly.

"I was in the hospital, and some Doctor gave me a shot and then I was here," he replied.

She seemed to look relieved and stood up gracefully brushing the wrinkles out of her uniform. "We have a car waiting to take us to the SGC. We think the resources Dr. Lam has access to will be more effective in helping you." She nodded back at Teal'c and Daniel and they fetched out several small carry-on bags. Jon stood absently rubbing his bruised shoulder as a great feeling of contentment filled him. His team had come for him.

Sam took a bag Teal'c held out to her and turned back nodding her head toward the exit, "Excuse me, sir."

Jon stepped into a row to let her past and noticed that she was careful not to touch him again. He guessed it must be weird seeing a young Jack O'Neill. He knew he'd matured out of the boy they had met three years ago and was determined to convince them all that he could be an asset to the SGC again. Teal's bowed slightly and Jon followed behind Sam. "I'm sorry guys," he said over his shoulder, "I was confused when I woke up. I hope your heads don't hurt too much."

"We are fine," rumbled Teal'c.

"Speak for yourself," complained Daniel, "My head hurts and my glasses are bent. My optometrist is going to love me showing up for another pair of glasses so soon."

"How many does that make this year?" asked Teal'c.

"Five! And it's only July," moaned Daniel.

Jon chuckled at the banter as he carefully stepped down the ladder to the tarmac. It was early morning judging from the pale gray nudging stars out of the sky in the east. A dark government issued sedan was parked off to the side and he saw an airman climb out of the driver's seat and open the trunk expectantly. They angled away from the hanger building and toward the car. "I am glad your reflexes have not diminished with your new job," Teal'c commented.

Jon's steps faltered as Daniel added teasingly, "Yeah, not bad for an old man." Daniel patted him on the shoulder as he brushed past to put the cases he was carrying in the trunk.

The bright floodlight illuminating the field shown down and cast everything in stark relief. Jon stood shock still staring at his reflection in the dark windows of the sedan. He had gray hair, a lined face and was wearing a general's uniform. He was himself again, and yet not. Somehow he had become accustomed to being a younger man.

"Jack?" said Daniel with concern holding the door open for him.

Jon blinked and looked at the expectant face of his old friend. How strange would it be if he complained he'd switched bodies with himself? He decided not to say anything until he figured out just what had happened. He found himself wedged in the back seat between Daniel and Teal'c, with Carter riding up front with the driver. The elation he'd felt only moments before drained out of him like a punctured balloon, and he sagged in the seat as he realized that they had hadn't come to rescue him at all.

"Are you well, O'Neill?" asked the ever perceptive Teal'c.

He looked over at his old friend, short cropped hair had replaced the shaven head, and fine lines had formed around his dark eyes, but the firm gaze was the same as ever. Jon waved his hand in causal dismissal, "I'm just tired," he lied.

"Adrenaline rush is wearing out," commented Daniel.

"Yeah," agreed Jon, closing his eyes and leaning his head back against the seat. While he feigned sleeping, his brain was going a hundred miles an hour. What had happened? How did he get here? He had been confused since the moment he'd woken up on that plane and things just seemed to be getting worse. He knew that it was possible to switch consciousness with someone as it had happened before to him and Teal'c when they had touched Machello's machine, but he hadn't touched anything alien in years. So that left the other him. The General. Jack. God, he hated thinking about this stuff.

He half opened his eyes to look at Carter, who was staring straight ahead uncharacteristically subdued. Maybe he should ask her advice. But did he really want to go back to his life as an adolescent again? He closed his eyes and frowned slightly. He'd made that sacrifice willingly three years ago, but he had been the teenager after all. Now he wasn't. Who was to say this wasn't as much his life as the "original's"? Guiltily, he remembered the last few contacts he'd had with Jack, who had healed him twice using some psychic link that he really didn't understand. Frowning and clenching his jaw, he tried to concentrate to make a connection. He felt a glimmer of warmth, a slight resonance that he knew meant Jack was there but not conscious.

"Are you in pain?" Teal'c asked, disrupting Jon's concentration.

Jon blinked his eyes open and forced his facial muscles to relax. "No," he said slowly as he came to a decision, "but I do feel a little off. Umm, how did we get here?"

Daniel leaned forward to look at him sharply, "Jack?"

"I, uh, seem to be suffering from some amnesia," Jon mock explained to make an excuse for any faux pas he might make.

Sam turned around quickly in the front seat and looked at him with raised eyebrows, "Sir?"

Jon sat up straighter and smiled confidently. It was time to take command again. "Tell me everything that's been happening at the SGC lately," he ordered. It was going to be good being a general.

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Jack woke up late the next morning when he felt a nurse slip an otic thermometer in his ear to take his vitals. His mouth was cottony and he recognized the after affects of having been given a sedative. "Water," he managed to croak and was relieved when the nurse slipped an ice chip in his mouth.

"Well, honey, it's about time," she said kindly as she bustled around raising his bed and helping him sit up. She handed him a cup with a straw and watched him carefully as he took a sip. "Slowly now, you don't want to get nauseas. Dr. Cummings is usually such a careful man, but I daresay he miscalculated a wee bit on your dosage. You should have woken up hours ago."

Jack blinked at the kindly older woman as she finished taking his vitals and writing them on his chart as he slowly came out of the haze and began to take in his surroundings. It was different room than the one he'd been in all week. That had been a single with a window, but this was some interior room with two beds. But one hospital room was pretty much the same as the next. He felt fuzzy and relaxed back in the pillows as he tried to sort out his memories. He'd had such a vivid dream. Daniel and Teal'c and Carter had come to get him out of the hospital. They had gone to his house and then out to dinner. He closed his eyes and replayed the scene. He had danced with her and it had been wonderful. He smiled slightly and then they had…his eyes popped open and he sat straight up in bed…kissed?

At that moment a slightly plump but pretty girl walked in the door and beamed at him, "He's awake," she said over her shoulder and was followed in by an older man with a round, well tanned face smiling equally as big.

"How do you feel?" the man asked as he walked up to the bed.

Jack gave a hesitant, "Fine," as he studied their faces. The girl looked familiar but he couldn't quite place her, and the man was a complete stranger, but they didn't look like a threat.

"I'll just fetch the doctor now that you're awake," the nurse announced and pulled the door closed.

Susan drug a chair over from the other bed and nudged the man, "Here you go, Professor Moore."

"Oh, no, you take it Susan," he protested. Jack was thankful he didn't have to ask their names as they clearly knew him.

She was already walking around the foot of the bed to the other side, "There's one over here for me." She reached out to hold Jack's hand as she sat down, "We were so worried when you hit your head last night. Although, I know I shouldn't have been," she squeezed his hand and gave him a conspiratorial smile.

Jack stared at her in confusion, racking his brain for a connection to the girl. "Mountain lion?" he blurted out suddenly.

She blushed and laughed nervously, "That was last week."

"Last week?" he echoed fighting against the residual drugs that clouded his mind. "I remember steaks and dancing," he muttered to himself, not wanting to admit to more.

"Yes," beamed Susan, "then that rat fink Derrick socked you because he was jealous of you dancing with Ashley, and you hit your head when you fell down."

"Hit my head," Jack repeated again and touched the back of his head where there was a tender spot. "But I thought I was dreaming about," he began, but was interrupted as the doctor bustled into the room.

"Ah, our patient's awake," Dr. Cummings said in an overly cheerful voice. "Let's just check you over. If you don't mind?" he gestured to the door, clearly indicating that the other two should leave.

Susan narrowed her eyes, but stood up in compliance. Jack noticed her animosity and looked warily back at the doctor, but looked back at her when she patted him on the shoulder, "We'll be checking you out of here as soon as you get clearance." She looked at him meaningfully and whispered, "Cooperate." Then she and Dr. Moore stepped out of the room.

Jack was confused but sensed a friend in Susan, so he took her advice and determined to be a model patient for the doctor. Of course, the first thing the man did was to pull a pen light out of his pocket. Not another concussion check, Jack inwardly moaned. The blinding light was soon put away and then the doctor took hold of his chin and tilted his head sideways to scrutinized his cheek, "Hmm, you can hardly see the bruise. Lean forward." Jack complied, and then he felt around on the back of his head. "This hurt?" asked Cummings. Jack shook his head no as the doctor stepped back looking slightly surprised, "You seem perfectly okay."

Jack shrugged, "Just healthy I guess."

"So do you get in fights often?" the doctor asked leadingly.

"No," drawled Jack, "the other guy was jealous of me dancing with his girl." He was grateful Susan had filled him in. He tried to look innocent as the doctor studied him.

"Right," Dr. Cummings said slowly, the kid seemed like a normal teenager, not some killer, maybe they were all just a little confused last night. The doctor took hold of Jack's wrist and looked at his watch for ten seconds, "Quite normal. I guess there's no reason to keep you," and then he commented, "The young heal so quickly."

Jack jerked forward, "The young?" he started, a suspicion forming in his mind.

"Jon?" the doctor responded warily, looking hard into his eyes.

Jack forced himself to relax, nodding and smiling to put the man at ease, "So can I get dressed now?" he asked, trying to turn his previous alarming motion into eagerness.

The doctor seemed to relax and nodded in agreement, "Sure, I'll get the front desk to finish up the paperwork for your release," and then he too was out the door.

The first thing Jack noticed when his feet hit the floor was that his knees didn't hurt. The next thing was that his hands weren't as freckled when he reached for his clothes folded on the counter against the wall. So he shouldn't have felt such a jolt of shock when he looked in the mirror and saw a very young version of himself staring back. The clothes fell back to the counter as he reached up with his right hand to touch his cheek and simultaneously out with his left hand to touch the mirror, "Holy Hannah," he breathed.

He closed his eyes tight and then snapped them open again. Nope, not a trick of the light. What had happened? How did he get here? He had been confused since the moment he'd woken up and things just seemed to be getting worse. He turned away from the unsettling visage in the mirror and automatically put on the jeans and shirt while his mind whirled. Somehow last night he had switched bodies with his clone. So that meant it wasn't a dream. He had gotten out of the hospital and gone out to dinner with his old team. He had danced with Sam. He had been in a backseat of a car and…he fell back on the bed. It was impossible for him to make out with Sam. Clearly, he'd thought so as well last night and hence the switch. He took a deep breath and tried to clear his mind.

He just needed to make the connection again and switch back. Jon, he called.

No, came the reply.

JON.

NO.

Hey! I healed you, you ungrateful wretch.

Yeah, but I didn't ask you to. You came in throwing your mental weight around, not me!

I don't know if you've noticed but we've switched and we have to switch back.

Why?

WHY?

This is just as much my life as yours. I am Jack O'Neill too!

But you wanted to go back to high school.

Like I had a choice!

Well you never complained.

That's not our style. Forget about things you can't change and move on. Right?

Yeah, right.

So, have fun digging for dinosaurs.

What?…Jon?…Jon!…JON!?

Jack opened his eyes and looked around the small room with a grimace. Damn! How was he going to get back his right body? Well, he clearly wasn't going to announce that to anyone. They'd put him in a psychiatric ward for observation, and he had enough of hospitals lately. He was going to play along as the young Jonathan O'Neill and hopefully get his new friends to get him back to Colorado Springs from where ever he was. Some geology field trip he remembered now. He had mailed his field vest for Jon to use just last month. Maybe he could contact General Hammond. He had taken on the role of looking after the boy. Him. Me. Jack groaned just thinking about it.

A knock on the door was followed by Susan poking her head in around the corner, "Ready?" she asked brightly.

"Yeah, sure, you betcha," Jack intoned and followed her out the door in a daze.

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So another chapter or two to go…I have an ending in mind and intend to get there. I just seem to take so long to write. My apologies, and thanks again for all the encouragement.


	13. Will the Real Jack O’Neill Please Stand

Younger than a Dinosaur

Chapter Thirteen: Will the Real Jack O'Neill Please Stand up?

by Leanne Scott

Summary: What does mini Jack do over summer vacation?

Disclaimer: I don't own him or the other Stargate characters, yada, yada. But all the rest of the characters were given to me by the writing muse fairy.

Sorry once again for the long delay between chapters. I started a new job last fall, and I'm truly not a fast writer, but I appreciate your encouraging reviews and hope you enjoy this next installment! Welcome to all those who've put me as a favorite author…I'm honored. Please let me know how you like it and whether I should actually try to finish this piece of whimsy!

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Chunk. Chunka, chunka, chunk. Chunk. Chunka, chunka, chunk. The MRI unit had a rhythm all its own. Jon felt the bed slide further into the magnetic ring. Chunk. Chunka, chunka, chunk. It had been a long morning in the infirmary. He clenched a fist to keep from fidgeting. He'd already been scolded twice for moving and making them repeat the scans. Trying to distract himself, he replayed the morning's events back in this mind.

To his disappointment, Sam had rebuffed his request for information with a single glance. She had flicked her eyes to the driver and back at him with a look that said shut up. Then just as he was congratulating himself on his ability to still communicate with her without words, she began giving the driver directions to her house.

"Aren't you coming to the base?" Jon couldn't help a bit of whine in his voice.

"It's Sunday morning," she said flatly.

"And? So?"

"General Landry gave us leave to visit you for the weekend. He specifically ordered me to not return until Monday morning," she explained.

"I could never get you out of your lab either," he nodded. "Even when it was a great fishing trip." She looked at him wistfully. "Some things never change," he teased her. But he'd gone too far. Suddenly her face fell, her eyes got that steely look in them he associated with going into battle, and she abruptly turned back in her seat and stared face forward.

Jon reached out to touch her shoulder, but Daniel had touched his elbow to stop him and had given him a look that said to leave her alone. Unsure of where he'd gone wrong, Jon sat in the silence with the uncomfortable realization that the relationship between Sam and the General was strained. He wondered how his other self could have ever let her go. It's not like she had the time to meet someone else and get married or anything he reasoned. God knows, he'd do anything to make sure she was happy. Studying her stiff shoulders, he knew she was upset and he was definitely at fault. Or at least Jack was at fault. Jon was determined to mend his special relationship with Sam and he wisely realized that she was going to need a little time by herself first. But he made a mental note to seek her out at lunch on Monday if he hadn't seen her before then.

Dropping her off at her tidy, little one story home, Daniel had again touched his arm signaling him not to get out of the car too. Jon watched as Daniel helped carry her bag and walk her to her door. Daniel patted her on the back and said something, and Jon had felt a stab of jealousy when she had smiled up at him. When Sam had quickly unlocked her door and disappeared inside, and Daniel returned down the walkway with a neutral expression on his face, Jon reminded himself that they had been good friends for a long time too, and the jealousy was replaced with a sense of family.

They had quickly reached Cheyenne Mountain and Jon noted that the base hadn't changed in the three years since he'd been there. As the car drove out of the pink dawn and into the dark cavern, he had felt the loss of the light, but he dutifully followed Daniel and Teal'c through the checkpoints and deeper into the bowels of the complex.

It had been fun signing in the first few times. He'd never written General Jack O'Neill before, but the obvious respect and awe that the airmen gave him as they saluted made him uncomfortable. He'd never felt special before and was always too humble to admit to much heroics beyond doing what his job and duty required of him. After all, it's not like he single handedly saved the planet or anything.

They had finally made it to the last elevator and Jon turned to Daniel hoping at last to get some information. It was going to be hard pretending to be the General if he didn't have an inkling of what had been going on lately. "So," he said bouncing on his toes expectantly.

Daniel grinned back and shook his head at his antics. "You're going to the infirmary," he said firmly. "Make sure he makes it, would you?" he added to Teal'c who bowed slightly in acknowledgement.

"Where are you going?" demanded Jon.

"I need to check on Vala first. I'll pop in to see you later this morning," reassured Daniel.

Unsure who Vala was and wondering whether he should ask, Jon remained silent and Daniel seemed to take that as a sign of acquiescence. The elevator doors slid open before Jon could make up his mind, and the beaming face of the short gate room technician greeted them. "Good morning, Sir," the man handed Jon a tall cup of coffee.

Sniffing appreciatively, Jon took a sip and realized it was just the way he liked it. He smiled down at the man, "Thank you Sergeant…" Jon searched his memory for the man's name and allowed his eyes to flick down to the nameplate on his uniform, "…Harriman." he finished lamely.

The sergeant looked at him warily and then over at Teal'c and Daniel who seemed unfazed by this behavior, "Uh, if you'll follow me, Sirs. General Landry wants to see you first."

They trailed the sergeant who led them to the conference room adjacent to the command office. The last time Jon had been here, that had been General Hammond's office. It seemed strange that anyone else should ever sit in that chair. Through the glass partition, he could see the profile of Landry taking on the phone. He had served with the man for several years and knew he was a good officer. Jon was glad the powers that be had chosen well for Hammond's replacement, and suspected that perhaps his other self might have had a hand in it.

Landry quickly hung up and strode out of his office, his face beaming and his hand outstretched, "Jack, I didn't expect them to bring you back. You look fine to me."

"Hank," Jon shook the man's hand and grinned, "You're looking old and fat to me," he couldn't resist teasing.

Landry grinned back and shrugged, "It goes with the job, and you collapsing last week is not helping matters." He studied Jon shrewdly, "Although, flying a desk seems to have made you younger."

Jon felt a sinking sensation that his charade as the older Jack was going to be discovered and tried to shrug off the inquiry, "Nah, just got a lot of rest last week," alluding to the time Jack had spent in the hospital.

Landry waved them to the conference table and they spread out to find chairs around it. Jon made a point of walking in front of the windows and looking down at the Stargate. His heart pounded with joy at the sight of it and he found himself longing for adventures again, but he squashed the feeling before he sat down.

"So, I just got off the phone with General Hammond," Landry began, "He agrees with Colonel Carter that we need to contact the Asgard and see if they have any insight into this situation." He looked expectantly at Jon, "So what is this connection you share with your clone, Jack?"

Jon stared down at his hands clasped around the coffee cup and tapped his thumb on the side thoughtfully, how much to say that wouldn't give him away, "Thor told Carter and me that there might be some consequences of Jon's maturation process. It seems that some of the inactive genes from having had an Ancient for an ancestor got activated when they saved his life. When he experienced an adrenalin rush, it accidentally allowed us to make a connection. Now that we know it can happen, we'll be on guard to block such an event in the future."

"Perhaps we should bring him in and have him checked out," Daniel said with concern.

"No," Jon shouted. "I mean," he continued more quietly when they startled, "He's managed to get on with his life so far. Don't remind him of everything he lost again," and he couldn't help looking back over his shoulder at the Stargate. Jon realized for the first time that being General Jack meant that he didn't get to go through the Stargate either and his sadness couldn't help but show on his face.

"Unh," Landry cleared his throated, "well at least for now, let's get you checked out, Jack." He turned his attention to the other side of the table, "Meanwhile, Teal'c, we've had a message from Dakara while you were gone. It seems the council is still in chaos following the power vacuum left when Gerak died. I told them Master Teal'c would contact them as soon as he returned."

Teal'c leaned forward with worry, "Have the Ori taken more Jaffa held planets?"

Landry shrugged, "I was not worthy of such details," he said dryly and pushed away from the table, "Let's go ask them."

Before he knew it, Jon had been escorted to the infirmary by Daniel, who had quickly left to check on the mysterious Vala, and he had spent the rest of the morning being poked, prodded and scanned by every conceivable medical device on Earth and then some. Chunka, chunka, chunk, the machine throbbed around him one last time. The scanning bed slid back out of the ring as the loud hum powered down and Jon stretched out his arms and legs before he sat up. It was tiring just lying around, he needed to move around and get some exercise.

Happily, Jon spied Teal'c peering through the glass windows of the monitoring room that overlooked the MRI room. Jon gave a little wave that Teal'c returned with a nod of his head and turned to look at Dr. Lam as she entered the room. "Am I done now?" he demanded.

The lithe woman smiled at him and patted a clipboard of printouts, "For now. We have to analyze the data and compare it to your known baselines. Thank you for being so cooperative General." Jon stared at her in confusion. "Everyone told me that you were a pain…"she faltered.

Jon grinned, realizing that he had been patient with them all. "Well, it's been awhile since I've had to endure this kind of scrutiny. It's much more aggravating when you have to go through it after every trip through the gate."

She nodded thoughtfully, "I guess so, although the tests are necessary to insure everyone's safety."

"So?" he asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Yes, Sir. Go get some lunch. I'll contact you if we need you again."

Jon jumped off the scanner and strode quickly out into the corridor before she could change her mind. Teal'c met him at the door; "I wished to speak with you before I departed, O'Neill."

Jon studied his old friend's face and noticed the telltale tension in his jaw, "Sure, what can I do to help, T?"

"It is I who must apologize for not helping you," intoned Teal'c.

"Are you leaving right now?" Jon asked.

"General Landry has given permission to leave at four o'clock. He wishes to send an SG team along as an escort and needs to give them several hours to prepare," explained Teal'c.

"In that case, let's go up top. I need some fresh air," Jon suggested. All those years down here he had never felt claustrophobic, but especially after having spent the last two weeks outdoors camping, he felt depressed by the narrow, gray, concrete walls. Teal'c merely nodded and they were soon riding up the elevator in comfortable silence.

Rather than go straight out into the large truck unloading area, they turned left out of the checkpoint and went down a short hall and opened a door directly out on the side of the mountain. A small clearing with a couple of stone benches had been set up overlooking a fine view of the road leading up the mountain. It had become smoking area, but Jon was happy no one was currently outside. He strode out to the ledge and threw his arms wide as if to embrace the sunshine. The energy tingled on his bare arms and warmth spread down to his bones. Within moments he was surging with strength. Maybe it was the hours of inactivity in the infirmary but he was desperate for motion. Turning to Teal'c he bowed formally and asked, "Will you join me in Lok'nel, Master Teal'c?"

Teal'c raised a surprised eyebrow but moved to the middle of clearing and took the starting stance. Jon stepped back from the edge to join him, leaving a good arm's length of space between them to move. They stepped forward simultaneously thrusting into the first stance, then drew back to a defensive one. Step, turn, thrust, crouch, stretch, and back, the pattern wove around the circle as the slow methodical movements became faster and faster. The elaborate, dance like exercise ended abruptly as they both turned and stepped into each other's space, fisted right forearms striking in a perfect X. Teal'c smiled widely and Jon was almost startled to see the rare grin.

"You have been practicing O'Neill. Your form has improved considerably," praised Teal'c.

Jon couldn't help but grin back, "It's become part of my daily morning workout." He nodded over at the benches, "Let's cool down before we have to go back down." He hated to admit it but the older body really didn't move as well as he had become accustomed to in his teenage one. His knees especially protested as he sat down and he began massaging the tendons that connected the bones at the joint. How many operations had Jack had anyway? Without consciously realizing it he began to send healing energy to the aching spots, only thinking how good the warm sun was feeling.

"I am need of your advice O'Neill," began Teal'c. "My people do not understand the gift of freedom that they have been given. Many long for the old days of order and stability. While many warriors died, at least there was honor in serving your master well, and most families were protected. Now in the battle against the Ori, they turn to these new Gods and throw away all our hard work." He looked out below the mountain and gestured towards the town, "I want them to have what the people of your world have, but they do not see the value of their own freedom. How can I teach them your ways?"

Jon studied his friend's serious face and began to realize the pressure the Teal'c was under as an absentee leader of his people. He turned his head and stared down the hillside to the flourishing town, the sunshine glinting off the windshields of tiny cars giving the impression of sparkles on water. Things had changed significantly for his team while he had to admit he had changed too. For instance, he had just finished taking AP US History and he had appreciated the view his experiences had given him. History was more than dry dates, names and facts. It was living breathing people making choices that sometimes had long range consequences. He had had to live beyond some of his own decisions and appreciated the curious way seemingly insignificant choices turned the whole course of events.

"Democracy isn't something you can give anyone," he started slowly. "The men who started our country had grown up in an English tradition of law and education. It was a natural step and even though they were ready for it, they weren't confident in themselves. Do you know why Washington is the Father of our Country?" he turned back to Teal'c.

"The man on your dollar bill," Teal'c nodded. "Daniel has told me of him. He was a great warrior leading your armies to defeat the English and then became the first President of your nation."

"Yes, but many people don't know that between winning the war and the start of our country there is a span of six years when they had to write a constitution and figure out how to run the country. At the end of the war many people wanted to make Washington the new King. You see, they knew how that kind of government worked. Washington is the Father of our Country because he didn't become King. He resigned his commission as commander in chief and retired and went home to be a farmer."

Teal'c raised an eyebrow, "But he did not stay retired."

"No, they asked him back to preside over the Constitutional Convention and at the end of it unanimously elected him the first President. At first he didn't want the position, but his sense of duty set the standard for all who have come after him.

"I have always done my duty," replied Teal'c. "But I do not feel right in retiring as you say."

"No, you're not getting it T. For us, for Washington, not being King was the right decision. But for you, for the Jaffa nation, maybe being King would be the right decision. What I'm saying is, you have to do what you think is right for your people. Sometimes you have to trust your instincts and hope for the best. There is no recipe for success, just the will to try your best."

Teal'c nodded solemnly, "Wise words, my friend."

Jon grinned sheepishly, "Nah, just ramblings of an old, hungry man. Come on, let's get some lunch," he slapped Teal'c on the back and the two headed back into the mountain.

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Silently fuming, Jack stared out the window of the Suburban as the landscape rolled by. Where was he? Who were these people? And how was he going to get himself out of this one?

Mental yelling at Jon had proved fruitless, as his younger clone had erected some barrier that effectively reflected his attempts at communication leaving only a headache behind. Fortunately, his fellow passengers seemed to have noticed his discomfort and after a few attempts at asking how he felt, had lapsed into silence as well.

Jack had surreptiousily patted his pockets and had not discovered a cell phone. Although actually making a call in the car without raising suspicion would have been impossible. He just wanted to know that he would be able to call the SGC as soon as they stopped. Although he was a little unclear about whom he'd ask to speak with and what he'd say, he definitely planned on raising a ruckus. 'Ungrateful, pipsqueak, upstart. How dare he try to steal MY life?' Jack groused to himself.

The sudden sprouting of buildings along the highway signaled the beginnings of a town and Jack hoped the 45 minute ride was nearing its end. He shifted in his seat to look back at the young woman Susan who had fallen asleep with her head against the window. She had genuinely been concerned for him and Jack suspected she had not slept much the night before. He continued his scan of his fellow passengers by studying Dr. Moore driving in the seat next to him. The middle aged professor seemed lost in his own thoughts as he drove essentially on autopilot. Jack realized that any action he would be allowed to take would depend on Moore's approval.

Clearing his throat, Jack tried to take on a causal air, "Umm, Professor, perhaps it would just be best if I went home to Colorado Springs."

Moore startled and studied Jack for a long moment before finally turning his eyes back to the road. "I thought you were better than that," he finally said.

"Excuse me?"

"I didn't figure you for a quitter, or a coward," Moore replied now staring determinedly forward.

"What?" spluttered Jack indignantly.

"I know you've had a few problems with some of the older students, but just because Derrick has a good right hook is no reason to quit."

"I can take a punch," Jack replied defensively, "I have other personal business I need to take care of."

"Specifically?" Moore glanced over with concern.

"I'm not a liberty to say," Jack replied.

"Hmm, I'm not surprised," Moore paused thoughtfully, "Look, Jon, I know you've persevered through much more difficult times. Trust me on this, you need to face up to the other boys now or you'll never be able to become a great leader. I've seen what you've done the last week teaching your martial arts to the girls, and your ideas and enthusiasm for the crane gave us an indispensable tool. You have real potential, son."

Jack scowled at the reference. He was almost fifty for crying out loud, besides the word had too many sad memories associated with it.

Moore took his silence to be concession of the point. "You were too enthusiastic yesterday morning about how well the crane worked in lifting out the fossils. I know you'll be a great asset on our dip."

"Besides, " Susan chimed in front the backseat, "you've made a promise for this summer job. You can't leave the Professor without enough help."

Jack turned in his seat to look back at her earnest face. He'd almost forgotten she was there. "Well, something's come up and I have to get back home."

"What?" she demanded. "I was with you practically all day long yesterday and you never mentioned anything while we were doing laundry or at dinner."

"It came up last night," he countered.

Her eyes narrowed, "You've either been unconscious or sedated until this morning."

"I mean I found out about it this morning," he tried to side step.

"How? Nobody would have known you were there but us," she gestured back and forth between herself and Dr. Moore driving the car. "Did you call anyone Professor?"

"No, I had the file of signed permission to treat forms in the car and that's all the hospital needed."

"Never heard of a cell phone before?" Jack retorted sarcastically.

"Jon, don't lie to us," she admonished.

He looked back at her with his best poker face.

"I know you don't have a cell phone," she continued. "You so totally teased us about having one when there is neither electricity nor coverage available at the dig site!"

'Well, that explains why I don't have one in my pocket,' Jack thought as he turned to look back out the windshield and tried to decide what to say next.

"Jon," Dr. Moore said gently and let go with the wheel with one had to grasp Jack's forearm. "I'm here to help. There's no way I'm going to let you quit. You'll see. It'll work out fine."

Susan patted his shoulder as well, "Yeah, everyone likes you. Derrick will come around. Ashley was just making him jealous last night and I'll have a little talk with her."

Jack glanced over at the two people earnestly trying to comfort him, closed his eyes and bowed his head with a sigh. 'Yep, the usual SNAFU,' he thought, 'I'll have to play along awhile longer.'

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Jon and Teal'c entered Daniel Jackson's office still absorbed in their conversation so Jon could be forgiven for walking full tilt into Vala. He could even be forgiven for catching her as she fell backwards in what could only be described as a tango-style full dip. Maybe even the charming smile he gave her as he suddenly found his arms full of a beautiful woman and he couldn't help thinking of his good fortune of the handfuls of girls he'd had lately. But his bungled attempt of an apology was inexcusable given he didn't, but should, know her name. "I'm sorry, ahh, I ahh, well that is Teal'c and I were, ahh, looking for…"he attempted as he straightened up still holding Vala in an embrace.

"Vala!" Daniel exclaimed pushing away from his desk, attempting to reach her at the same time.

"…Daniel," finished Jon lamely looking over at his friend through her long black hair.

"General O'Neill," purred Vala placing her hands on his shoulders and giving him an appreciative look.

Jon dropped his hands from around her and hastily stepped back, "Um, Vala, it was an accident." He was grateful Daniel had mentioned her name finally remembering the archeologist had mentioned checking on her earlier.

Vala dropped her arms slowly and gave him a playful smile, "I never noticed what deep brown eyes you have."

"Yeah, well…"stuttered Jon hopelessly.

"Vala," Daniel scolded as he made it around his desk. He put his arm over her shoulder and drew her back protectively. "Are you okay?" he asked more gently.

She smiled for a moment, then pulled away and put her hands on her hip. In a spirited voice she said, "No, I'm still starving and have been trying to get you to go to lunch for half an hour."

"We came to see if you wished to go to lunch with us as well," Teal'c explained.

"T has to go off-world to Dakara later today," added Jon trying to turn the conversation away from himself.

Teal'c bowed slightly and gestured for them to walk out of the door in front of him.

"What's up on Dakara?" asked Daniel lingering to allow Teal'c to fall in step with him.

"Too many factions are creating indecision in battling the Ori. Several Jaffa worlds have been lost essentially without any fight," lamented Teal'c.

"What time are we leaving?" asked Vala over her shoulder.

"I did not ask General Landry whether SG-1 could accompany me. I did not want to interfere with your down time," Teal'c replied.

Vala turned to grab Daniel's hand and walked backwards down the hall, "Come on Daniel, we can't let down a friend in need."

"Hmm," Daniel replied.

"It's Boring down here," she complained with a pout. "Some of us don't have moldy old relics to paw over.

Daniel made a face at her, but turned to Teal'c to ask, "Do you need the help of a moldy old archeologist?"

Teal'c actually smiled as he inclined his head, "Your services as a negotiator would be most welcome."

Vala twirled in place to end up between the two men, her arms linked in theirs like a scene out of Oz. "There. All settled," she grinned broadly.

Looking over his shoulder, Jon couldn't help but smile at the interactions of the three, but also felt a little sad because it was obvious he wasn't part of the famous SG-1 team anymore.

Ever attentive to nuances, Daniel pulled away from Vala and quickened his step to match pace with Jon's, "Unless you need help here, Jack?"

As desperately as Jon wanted to say yes, or even better, to say he'd come along on the mission too, he knew he had to say no. All this time he had been jealous of Jack keeping his old life, but being made a General had irrevocably changed the interactions allowed with his old team. Jack had lost his friends by being promoted just as surely as Jon had in being cloned a teenager. "Nah, this old dog can take care of himself," he finally replied. "Although lunch before you go would be nice."

"Absolutely," Daniel smiled back in relief.

Lunch was a lighthearted affair with Jon asking leading questions about the team's latest missions and Vala filling in all the juicy details sure to embarrass Daniel. When she stole a cookie off his tray and leaned her head on his shoulder to eat it, Daniel didn't even bat an eye but continued his exposition on the intricacies of the Ori. Jon shared a look with Teal'c who gave a half smile and shrug that communicated as eloquently as the body language of the happy couple themselves. Jon gave an answering half grin happy to see his old friend had finally gotten over the death of his wife.

When they moved on to the locker rooms to gear up for the mission, Jon followed them, loath to let his team out of his sight. It just felt wrong to have them go on a mission without him.

He trailed them up to the control room where Daniel and Vala got permission from General Landry to accompany Teal'c. Then stood forlornly as they met up with SG-3 down in the embarkation room and Sergeant Harriman called out the chevrons. As the blue plasma wave shot out and collapsed back into the gate, Jon couldn't help flinching. The phenomenon was bigger than he remembered and then he realized that he'd never really seen the gate in person. It was all artificial memories.

"Are you all right, Sir?" asked the perceptive Sergeant sitting at the gate controls.

Jon glanced down in surprise and tried to cover his previous startle reflex by shaking out his arms and doing a little stretch. "Fine. Just need to take the doctor's advice and rest."

Walter looked up expectantly, owlishly studying Jon behind his round glasses.

"Ah, do you know what quarters I've been assigned to?" asked Jon feeling a little awkward.

"Your usual room is waiting for you, Sir."

"Right. So I guess I'll just go there then," replied Jon turning hastily and heading down the stairs.

Walter watched him go, an unsettled feeling filling his mind. Something about the General was not right, and he resolved to watch him more closely.

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Send me a review…should I continue? I have an outline, but honestly I can only write a bit a day at my lunch hour in a notebook, and then have to kick my kids off the computer to type it…do you want me to finish? Thanks for your input!


	14. Learning To Fit In

Younger than a Dinosaur

Chapter Fourteen:  Learning To Fit In

by Leanne Scott

Summary:  What does mini Jack do over summer vacation?

Disclaimer:  I don't own him or the other Stargate characters, yada, yada.  But all the rest of the characters were given to me by the writing muse fairy. 

Sorry once again for the long delay between chapters.  I really appreciate the encouragement to continue writing.  Thank you to all of you who took the time to review and for putting me on your favorites…it's an honor.  Finally, I know the body switch is confusing, but I have Jack and Jon identified as such when they are thinking, but the other characters in the story will address them as the opposite, ie what their body age makes them look like.  And now back to our story…

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Jack stared down at the phone in his hand stymied.  He'd finally managed to borrow a cell phone from one of the boys he was sharing a room with, and had walked outside for some privacy.  He had just spent the last half hour pacing around the parking lot in the warm afternoon sun trying to get a hold of someone who could help.

He tried General Hammond's home first.  The message said he was out of town for a few days.  He wanted to call George's cell phone but didn't remember the number.  He had all kinds of numbers programmed into his own phone, but this was Robert's phone, not his.  Racking his brain for phone numbers he actually knew, he realized he only knew those of his old team.

So he tried Daniel's number.  The machine answered with an ancient message telling the caller that Daniel might be traveling for his research and not to be offended if he didn't return the call anytime soon. Jack shook his head ruefully.  He'd actually been in the room when Daniel had recorded it years ago.  Again he didn't know the archeologist's cell phone number.  Daniel was renown for losing or breaking his phones and having to get new ones.

Next, he called Sam's home and her machine answered too.  So far he hadn't left any messages.  Some how he felt it would be more believable if delivered in person.  Finally, he decided to dial the SGC directly and ask for her, sure that she was distracting herself with some gizmo or another.

"Good Evening.  United States Air Force, Cheyenne Mountain.  How may I direct your call?" the voice answered.

"Hi, Colonel Samantha Carter, please."

"I'm sorry, sir, she's not currently on base.  I'll connect you to her voice mail."  Clicks followed and he found himself in the automated voice mail system.

Running out of options, he decided to leave a message after all.  "Sam, I need your help.  I'm not myself.  I'm mini-me.  Well, that is, he's in my body and I'm in his.  I know this sounds crazy, but I'm trapped on an archeology dig.  Jeez, this isn't coming out right.  I wish I knew where you were…wait, are you still in D.C.?  Right!  I'll just call…" and he flipped the phone closed as he finished the sentence, "myself."

Quickly, he dialed his own home number and waited impatiently as it rang.  Why hadn't he thought of it earlier?  They'd come to visit him, of course no one was home.  When his phone machine picked up he called out, "Hey!  Pick up the phone!  Daniel?  Sam?  Teal'c?" but just the hiss of the open line came through the phone.

Starting to get mad now, he redialed the SGC.  "Good Evening.  United States Air Force, Cheyenne Mountain.  How may I direct your call?" the voice answered.

"Dr. Daniel Jackson, please," Jack asked and listened as the phone rang over and over.

The operator's voice came back efficiently, "I'm sorry.  He's away from his desk.  I'll connect you to voicemail," two clicks followed, and he found himself in the automated system again.

"Jeez," Jack sighed as he snapped the phone shut in frustration, and stared down at the phone in his hand.  It promptly chirped back at him as if indignant to be treated roughly.  Opening the cover, he stared in horror at the icon on the top of the screen.  Low Battery and a single bar blinked back.

Once again he dialed the SGC main number.  "Good Evening.  United…"  Jack didn't let the man finish.

"Connect me with General Landry," he demanded in his best command voice.

"Who may I say is calling?"

"General Jack O'Neill," he literally growled.

"One moment, please," the voice put him on hold and classical music filled his ear.

"For crying out loud!" Jack exclaimed as the phone chirped its impending lack of energy once again.

"Landry," the current head of the SGC answered.

"Hank, thank god!  Listen, I need your help," Jack began.

"Who is this?" Landry asked suspiciously.

"It's me, Jack," he replied and then an unfortunate thing happened.  Just as he added, "Jack O'Neill," the youthful body he was trapped in betrayed him and his voice cracked.

"Ahh, Jonathan," Hank replied with an emphasis on his full first name.  "I thought you might be calling.  You've been experiencing connections to Jack and want them to stop."

"Yes, but it more complicated…" Jack tried to explain.

But Landry interrupted, "We know all about it and have brought the General," he emphasized the rank, "here and have the best minds working on it."

"I need to get there too.  I'm stuck in some podunk town 60 miles west of Craig and need help getting back to Colorado Springs."

"That will raise too many questions.  Look, you agreed to your semi-undercover status.  Let us work the problem and just enjoy your life," Landry replied condescendingly.  "If we need you, we will find you."

"Hank, will you just listen!"  Jack exclaimed as the phone chirped once more in his ear.  "Hank?  Hank?"  He lowered the phone from his ear and stared at the dark, powerless screen.  "Oh crap."

"Hey, Jon, is everything okay?" a soft voice asked behind him.  He whirled around to see Susan looking concerned.  "Were you able to get a hold of your uncle?"

"Huh, Uncle?" he asked stupidly.

"Your uncle in the Air Force," she eyed him worriedly.

"Oh, me," said Jack as realization dawned, "I mean, oh HIM.  Yeah, 'Uncle Sam' wants Me to stay put," he added bitterly.

"Good," she smiled and linked her arm with his pulling him around to the front of the building.

"Wait, where are we going?"

"It's over an hour back to camp and the Professor wants to leave now so we don't have to navigate that dirt road in the dark."

"But I thought…" he began to protest.

"There you are!" exclaimed Professor Moore as they rounded the corner.

"I've got your back pack, Jon," called Robert from the back of the suburban where he was arranging duffels and bags.  "You got my phone?"

"Sure," Jack said as he handed the device over, "it just ran out of power."

"Oh well," shrugged Robert, "no service out there anyway."

"No service," echoed Jack.  He turned to the Professor, "Dr. Moore, I really think I should stay here, maybe look into getting a bus ticket back to the Springs."

"But you just said your uncle said to stay here," piped in Susan at his side.

"Ahhhh!" he exclaimed shaking his pointer finger at her, an expression which had always worked on Carter in the past when she prattled too much science at him.

"Jon, Jon," placated Moore, "We've been through all of this already.  It'll all work out.  Trust me."

"But," Jack barely uttered the word.

"Get in the car!" Moore ordered him sternly.

And so Jack found himself crammed in the backseat with Susan and Robert, and trapped in a life that his other self had somehow resigned himself to.  His ire at Jon was partially reduced as he realized just how frustrating it must have been the last few years for the cloned teen to cope while he had gone on nearly forgetting about Jon's existence altogether.  Suddenly, the events of the day caught up to him and a wave of exhaustion, perhaps aided by the lingering effects of anesthetic, swept through his body.  So Jack leaned his head on the window and fell asleep.

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Jon scrolled the screen down to the bottom of the text and eagerly read the ending of the mission report.  Daniel had always written the best narratives, if you ignored all the boring archeology parts that is.  He had to admit his style had been overly simple bullet reporting, and Sam's had been too scientific half the time to follow, while Teal'c had not been required to write reports.

After checking out his old quarters and finding them otherwise unchanged except for a new sign that read 'VIP Quarters / General Jack O'Neill', he realized that hiding out in the boring room was the last thing he wanted to do.  So he had wandered the halls of the SGC noting the few things that had changed, but mostly how much it was the same.  Sam's lab was dark and quiet, but Daniel's office still had the lights on.  So he found himself ensconced at Daniel's desk, slouched back in the chair with his feet up on the corner of the desk and a mouse in his hand as he nosed around through the files Daniel had saved on his desktop.  Most of them were rather boring research files, but when he found the mission reports, he knew he'd hit pay dirt.  At last, all the fun he'd missed out on.

A couple of hours later he was realizing how much Jack had missed out on too, although this Mitchell fellow sounded like a capable enough officer.  Jon scrunched up his eyes a moment trying to dredge up a vague memory.  There had been a Major Cameron Mitchell on the list of pilots for the first round of 302 training that he had okayed long ago.  He wondered what had prompted Mitchell's promotion to Colonel and command of SG1, and that was his down fall.  Without realizing what he was doing, he left the friendly and isolated desktop of Daniel's laptop, and began querying the base server and downloading service files which prompted the automatic alerts by the system.  Daniel Jackson had been marked as logged out and away from the base.

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Master Sergeant Walter Harriman was looking forward to a nice dinner off base.  As soon as his shift ended at six o'clock, he planned to go to a nice little mom and pop diner that served food that always reminded him of his own mother's Sunday dinners.  Unfortunately, as he did his close down routines in preparation of transferring controls to the next shift's gate technician, he noticed one of the automatic flag alerts blinking a warning.  He was too experienced to over-react.  After surviving various out-right base attacks, a computer alert was relatively insignificant.  But he hadn't risen in rank by ignoring things, no matter how small, so he clicked on the icon and scanned the automatically generated report.

"Oh, Dr. Jackson left his computer on again," he muttered to himself, about to toggle off the alert.  Then the report skipped to a screen showing current activity and he saw the list update with two more files being sent by the server.  "Colonel Mitchell's service and medical records?" he wondered aloud.  While he watched, it updated again with Vala Mal Doran's file.  He snatched up the phone and dialed security, "Suspicious computer activity in Dr. Jackson's office," he reported, "Possible intruder; use stealth to approach so as not to alert them," he added, "General Landry and I will meet you there."

Quickly, he pushed away from his console and ran up the stairs to the General's office just above the control room.  The door was ajar and he could hear the General on the phone, "If we need you, we will find you," Landry was saying.

Harriman pushed the door open all the way and could see the General looking down sourly at the phone, "Sir?" he asked.

"Punk hung up on me," complained Landry as he placed the receiver back on the cradle.

"I don't want to alarm you, but we might have a security breech," reported the Sergeant.

"Where?" demanded Landry moving to join him at the door.

Harriman led the way out into the hall, "Dr. Jackson's lab, sir.  I thought at first it was another false alarm, but sensitive files are being downloaded from his computer."

"What types?" snapped Landry.

"Personnel files," Walter replied.  The General glanced sideways at him.  "SG-1"s" he added responding before the question was even asked.

"They cause trouble even when they're not here," Landry grumbled fondly.

"Yes, sir," replied the dutiful sergeant.

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Jon heard the soft snick of the gun safety being moved and the hairs on the back of his neck stood up.  It had been a long time since he'd been in battle, if indeed you could say he'd ever been under fire, but there were certain sounds one just didn't forget.  Faster than the two security guards could come through the door, Jon rolled out of the chair and under the desk and was prepared to tip it over if needed for a shield.

The guards filled the doorway, taking high and low stances with their arms locked out in front of them to steady their service revolvers.  "Come out with your hands up," demanded one.

Holding his hands just barely over his head, Jon peeked over the edge of the desk, "Hi fellas, it's just little old me," he said casually.

The sound of running footsteps grew louder from the hallway and General Landry's voice commanded loudly, "Report."

The crouching security guard straightened and took a step back turning to answer the voice, "It's General O'Neill, sir."

Landry's face appeared in the door, "Jack?"

Jon slowly straightened from behind the desk giving a sheepish shrug, "Hi Hank."

"What the hell do you think you're doing?"

"Catching up on some reading," Jon answered lamely.

"Base and computer security orders are still from your recommendations.  You should know better than to open files under someone else's password," Landry admonished him.

"Part of the amnesia?" Jon offered hopefully.

"Hmpmf!" Hank snorted.  "Good work Andrews, Wilson," he nodded at the guards, "You're dismissed."

Landry walked fully into Daniel's office trailed by the owl-eyed Sergeant Harriman, "Sir?  You used to make me come turn off Dr. Jackson's computer whenever he'd forget to before leaving on a mission."

"Just keeping you on your toes," Jon replied bouncing on his own feet with a big grin.  "Wow, I didn't realize it was getting so late.  Have you had dinner yet, Hank?" he asked trying to change the subject.

"Actually, no.  Let's wander to the mess hall," Landry turned to Harriman, "Walter, would you shut everything down here before you go for the night?"

"No problem, Sir."

"Thanks, sergeant, good night," called Jon as he and Landry walked out into the hall.

Harriman bent over the desk, reaching for the mouse to shut down the computer when it hit him.  Sergeant.  All day long General O'Neill had called him Sergeant.  Not once had he called him by his first name, Walter.  He had served as the General's aide for almost two years.  And Jack O'Neill had never been a patient man when it came to protocol.  The General had called him Walter almost from the start.  By the time O'Neill had been promoted to Washington, Walter had felt like he had become part of the man's inner team.  Not like SG1, of course, but an important part of the new administration team.  The man who had just left was acting like he hardly knew, let alone trusted him.

Walter frowned as he looked back out the door where they had just exited.  Should he raise an alarm?  What were his charges?  That he hadn't been called by his first name?  He resolved to find more evidence tomorrow.  There was something definitely off about Jack O'Neill.

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Jack had been awake for some time, but had played possum while the car bumped along the dirt road because he wanted to avoid conversation for as long as possible.  He ran through his decisions and options, but kept coming up with the same answer.  He was stuck as the teenaged Jon O'Neill.  Claiming to be the adult General Jack O'Neill trapped in a clone's body would not only make him sound insane, but expose a national secret he had sworn not to reveal.  He was well and rightly stuck, until Jon playing as the adult General, messed up.  He was certain it would happen sooner or later, and when someone at the SGC caught on, well then, he'd be rescued.  He knew it would happen because, well, to entertain any other thought was unthinkable.

An insistent patting on his arm forced him to open his eyes.  Susan was leaning forward and studying him with a worried expression, "We're here," she announced unnecessarily.

Jack watched as the car turned off the dirt road and pulled up to the enclave of tents nestled up against the hillside.  Everyone piled out of the car, gathering their things and suddenly all talking at once about what should be prepared for dinner and whose turn it was to cook.  He followed slowly taking a long look around to get his bearings, suddenly wishing he'd paid attention to how they had gotten there.  The random placement of the mismatched tents looked slovenly compared to the military precision he was used to for encampments.  He turned slowly surveying the broad river and darkening sky.  A pile of dark clouds filled the Western sky, blotting out what should have been a nice sunset, but instead produced a foreboding atmosphere.  "Just great," he muttered gloomily to himself, "Rain."

Susan came out of her tent as he completed his turn, "No sleeping under the stars tonight, eh?" she asked rhetorically.  He shrugged.  "Let's ask the Professor if you can store your telescope in the car to protect it," she suggested.

"Telescope?" he echoed with raised eyebrows.

"Yah, come on, I'll help you," she said in a motherly voice and linked her arm around his elbow so she could pull him along into camp.

Everyone else was still in their tents putting away their packs and clean clothes from the trip to town.  They stopped by a big tent next to the dining canopy and Susan pretend knocked at the flap, "Knock, knock," she called out flashing a grin at Jack.

Dr. Moore poked his head out, "Yes?"

"Can Jon put his telescope in the car to protect it from the rain?" Susan asked.

"Actually, Sir, I'd advise putting as much as you can in the cars," Jack added looking back at the gathering sky.

Moore stepped out of the tent completely and studied the Western sky as well, "Hmm, it does look like it will rain tonight."

"It has all the hallmarks of a significant weather system," observed Jack wisely, having been out in the field under such conditions before.  "It's going to be a real frog choker!"

"Look who's talking," said a snide voice behind them.

Jack turned quickly and swept an angry look up and down the haughty figure of Neil the graduate student.

" 'Hallmarks of a significant weather system,'" repeated Neil.  "What?  You're a meteorology expert now too?"

Jack drew himself up to his full height and bored one of his best commanding general glares at the young man who dared to disrespect him so badly.  "Who do you think you are?" he demanded.

"I'm the senior Graduate student, not the newbie High School student," replied Neil putting emphasis on their levels.  "I've been participating on these digs for over seven years now and I know Dr. Moore and I have far more experience in these matters," Neil continued, giving a slight acknowledgement to the Professor standing right there.

"Seven years," snorted Jack, "and you're still a graduate student?  You clearly aren't learning anything from your so called experience.  My friend, Daniel, got two PhD's in less time than that."

"Ya?  What in?  Babysitting and diaper changing?"

Jack clenched his fists and glared.

"Gentlemen, gentlemen," placated Dr. Moore stepping between them, "fighting accomplishes nothing."  He gestured at the gathering students coming out of their tents after hearing the loud voices.  "We're a team here.  We have a common goal."

"He started it," Jack complained.

"You're always giving 'suggestions'," Neal said the word giving air quotations with his fingers, "but expecting us to follow them like orders."

"Well, they're usually good ideas," retorted Susan defensively.

"Oh, you like how he barks commands at you when you to that silly taichi dance every morning?" Neal asked sarcastically.

The other students stepped closer.  "He's teaching us," explained Mindy, "his comments are always about how to move correctly."

"Yah, and whenever he gives suggestions, he throws himself into making them work," Robert stepped up to Jack's side and patted him on the shoulder.

The two big, burly jocks moved behind Jack and Robert and added their glares.  "And he doesn't try to take credit for other people's work," growled Derrick.  Dwain nodded in agreement.

"He has a good sense of humor and doesn't take himself so seriously," added Stan.

"He's not a self-absorbed, selfish prig," Ashley chimed in shrilly.

Neal took a step back in surprise as the rest of the group rallied on Jack's side.

"Everyone stop this right now!" a firm voice ordered.

Jack found himself turning in unison with his newfound friends.  A tall, thin Japanese woman was throwing back tent flaps and stepping out of a dome tent behind them.  He had not seen her before and realized she must have been the driver of the other car.  Although her features were plain, her regal posture and stern look commanded instant respect.

"Dr. Brown," Neal straightened and smiled smugly, "I know you will agree that…:

"Shut up, Neal," Keiko Brown snapped, "don't be so pompous."  He visibly deflated.  She gestured to the darkening sky and back to their little camp.  "You all are wasting time.  I believe Jon's original suggestion was a good one.  The weather is going to be bad tonight and we need to secure the camp as well as possible before it gets too dark and rainy."  Raising her eyebrows, she leaned her head towards Dr. Moore, "Gil?"

Moore shook his head slightly as he realized he had allowed this confrontation to go on a little too long.  He cleared his throat.  "Jon.  Neal.  You both have to admit you can be bossy and attention seeking.  For the good of our group, you need to learn to work together.  So I want you two to pack up the kitchen tent together."

Jack scanned the faces of his fellow students as he slowly turned back around.  They all smiled and nodded encouragingly at him.  He felt both a little jealous and proud of the loyalty his clone had generated among these people in a short period of time.  He glanced at Neal, who was staring past him at Dr. Brown, still in shock at her reprimand.  Then he looked over at Dr. Moore who was in turn looking expectantly at him.  Realizing he was the random factor, that once again, it fell upon him to control the mood of a situation, he drew himself into attention and nodded at he professor, "Yes, Sir."

Stepping out towards Neal, he held out his right hand and flashed one of his rare full smiles, "I think we both can admit we're not perfect and can learn to act in a more adult manner.  What do you say we start over?"

Neal shifted his attention and looked rather blankly at Jack.

"Nice to meet ya," Jack drawled, "My name's Ja—Jon O'Neill," he stuttered.

Neal swallowed and took a deep breath, then held out his own hand, "Neal.Holz."

"Excellent!" Brown pronounced loudly and clapped her hands twice, "Now let's all get to work."

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One more chapter to come…thanks again for taking the time to review and encourage me to finish.


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